


If at First You Don't Succeed

by Tsuukai



Series: Leaves [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 100
Words: 72,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like leaves turning from green to yellow to red; like the same leaves falling to the ground, the air takes another turn for the year, becoming cooler. Each breath taken, in the hopes of warming again, is treasured just like the company they carry, soft, silent and there.</p>
<p>A collection of <strike>drabbles</strike> pieces of various sizes, of various scenarios, and which all started because of AoKaga Month.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

 

**Aomine Daiki never met Kagami Taiga in High School.**

[Double drabble.]

 

* * *

 

 

Daiki sees the redhead every time he heads to the station from work. It has been years since he has felt anything when watching a basketball game and this young male is dunking every other basket like he knows no other move. It would have been common place if the redhead did not seem to remain levitated up in the air, hair pushed back away from his face as gravity made him fall. Daiki would have labelled him an angel, but he has never seen one, so he cannot really call the other that. What he is though, is beautiful. It is the first time in years since he has been able to smile while looking at a play. Maybe one day, he will stop by and ask the brat for a game. Going ahead of himself, he can almost see the wide grin of superiority as the younger male’s ego fires up and says he will win the impromptu one-on-one. Daiki is too invested in this daily imagination that he does not even realise that none of it happens. When he finally manages to get himself before the boy, he rolls out, “Hey brat; ready for our next game?”

 

 

* * *

 


	2. First Crack At It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It goes to show how Daiki feels about losing to be the first. And how Taiga is not impressed. 
> 
> [Triple drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Taiga is not impressed when Daiki goes down on one knee and proclaims beautiful lines of forevers and whathaveyous and what he wants for all his breakfasts, even though it should have been sweet and special and _oh my god, that is one big ass diamond encrusted ring_. He is not impressed when the man goes on both knees to beg to be taken, even when he brandishes with words all the things he will do in their futures together and how Taiga will never want for anything in his life with Daiki there to take care of him. Taiga is definitely unimpressed with the way Daiki emphasises all these promises of love and feelings, releasing all sorts of liquids onto his person even if they are at home with no one to see how disgusted Taiga really is at the moment. Then, the next morning, when Daiki wakes up to see Taiga glaring at him, he asks, “What got up your ass?” And Taiga is one second away from slapping the ladle on his face, “Definitely not you. But here, take this.” Tossing the ring he was given yesterday, Daiki views the piece of metal and gems with awe and wonder. “Where did you get this?” he asked, slightly afraid. Taiga scowls as he returns to his tasks, Daiki following like a duckling, eyes wide. “Ask yourself that. Oh wait, it might have been from your boss that you had a drunken fight with last night and wrestled it off him.” Daiki almost drops the ring, burned, incapable of forming any thoughts. Instead Taiga says, “When you return that, I want you to come back with the ring _I_ gave you a week ago.” And Daiki knows he will be grovelling with forgiveness for a long while to come.

 

 

* * *

 


	3. Sing Before Breakfast, You’ll Cry Before Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daiki will always listen to Taiga.
> 
> [Double drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Daiki never got the English saying Taiga always snapped at him in the mornings when he hung around his shoulders, cooing lyrics from those pop idols he hears on the radio, sashaying in a towel or maybe even sometimes without clothes. Taiga will harp and harp and harp and he would obviously turn a deaf ear, continuing with his singing until Taiga would lash out in a sardonic tone: “Sing before breakfast, you’ll cry before night.” Daiki never did cry, though, so he never really listened. Until today, when morning found him singing Taiga a birthday greeting, better than those mimicked pop songs, and found himself crying at the end of the night because some idiot decided to drink and drive and crash into his beloved while they were crossing the street. “You’re an idiot,” Taiga said, bandaged and delirious on medication, a drip bag attached. “It’s not your fault.” But Daiki could not agree, because it was, and Taiga was always, always—“Kiss me, fool, or you’ll ruin my birthday.” And Daiki listens because it is Taiga who is always right in the end, and if only he listened from the very beginning, tonight would have gone much better.

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little sad, a little happy?
> 
> Prompt for AoKaga Month: Date Night/Birthday (both, because I could).


	4. Morning, Noon and Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daiki thinks he is lucky.
> 
> [Triple drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Daiki is lucky, he thinks, seeing this woman cry over the news his colleague gives her, weeping, sobbing and heartbroken, that he has Taiga waiting for him at the end of his shift, even if he has yet to tell the man how much he means to him. He has gone mornings without waking up to see tanned skin heated under the stray rays of the sun through blinds, red hair a distinct contrast to his sheets; afternoons where lunch could have been had in the presence of the splendid cook; and nights where he could have praised and worshipped the redhead’s body for being the most amazing person in the world to him. With the woman now, Daiki is scared to tell Taiga anything, do anything, because he is afraid for the day to come when he would be ripped away from his side. Afraid and broken he does not want to be, and he is almost certain to lock that part of his away, until the woman says wryly, “If I had never known him, my life would be a bleak morning, a cloudy afternoon and a moonless night. He meant the world to me.” And Daiki cannot agree more, especially later when he sees the worried frown on the redhead’s face, and a “What’s wrong with you, Aho?” He grabs the man and reverently confesses of dull mornings, restless afternoons, and long nights awake. And Kagami Taiga? That sweet angel, the gift of God to his dark world, smiled beatifically and holds him, and promises him, “Morning, noon and night, I am all yours for the taking.” So, Daiki thinks he is now truly lucky; waking up next to the man who has made him who he is; morning, noon and night, he will never forget this.

 

 

* * *

 


	5. Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **The preface of many more visits, if Taiga can help it.**  
> 
> 
> [Double drabble.]

* * *

 

Taiga did not like to drink much, the smell usually always making him think about what happens after binge too much on the liquid. He (and Tatsuya) has had enough of the after effects of Alex when she really did let loose, and Taiga would like to keep those incidents as memories: far from the present and near future. But he is sitting at the bar, staring with hooded eyes as the barkeep swipes down the surface of the table, smiling and chatting with his colleague and patrons, dark skin taunt on supple muscles. The man was as tall as him, lean though, with dark blue hair and maybe even the same shade eyes, Taiga could not tell through the dim haze of the bar. He was kempt; black shirt tucked in, waistcoat cinched, long sleeves neatly folded up to his elbow, fingers long, nails neat. No piercings or even a tattoo peeking out from under his collar which, being grateful for, was left open, revealing smooth expanse of upper chest and a slight hint of developed pectorals. Taiga licked his lips, intertwining his fingers. He wanted to taste this man more than the drink he had in his hand.

 

    

* * *

 

 

 **Author’s Note:**  Um...there is a ~~huge~~ chance that I might be continuing this. In parts. OTL

Prompt for AoKaga Month: Alcohol.


	6. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **When they go travelling next time, Taiga will make double sure for his own comfort’s sake.**
> 
> [Double Drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Taiga wondered how Momoi managed all of Daiki’s formative years together, but he is sure as hell not interested in why a grown man is ducking his head and sticking so close to him that it is making it virtually impossible to walk straight. What possessed Taiga that it was a good idea to travel with the Big Baby, he does not know; he saw a Church a street back and maybe the priest or pastor or whatever could _rid him of this curse_. “Will you grow up!” he demanded of the other, fuming. People were staring and he was uncomfortable. They were two tall men, joined at the hip—and while homosexuality is not frowned upon in Berlin—Taiga wished a cop would come and take Daiki away. “But the bees—!” the other cried, and for one swell moment, stumped Taiga. “…Are you scared?” Daiki’s silence spoke volumes; Taiga dragged them to a taxi queue and when they got in, said, “We’re getting out of here. Amsterdam’s a train-ride away.” Daiki, sulking for being indirectly ridiculed he feels, mutters dispassionately, “Every place is a train-ride away here.” Taiga, besides himself, reaches over and kisses the sulking man stupid.

 

 

* * *

 

 **Author’s Note:** If you live/seen/heard about Berlin, you will know that it is teeming with bees over there. In the restaurants, in the malls, everywhere!! At the time, I couldn’t even think about Aomine then—too worried that I would sit on one—but I just remembered after seeing a picture.

AoKaga Month Prompt: ... ~~I wasn't thinking straight.~~


	7. Drop 'Em!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Daiki wants to scrub the American out of him.**  
> 
> 
> [Double Drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Daiki stared in horror as the redhead dropped down the pair of cards, disbelief apparent to the five sitting at the _chabudai_. Smirking with an arrogant aura, Kagami looked as if he was just waiting to burst out laughing, thick eyebrows twitching under his red fringe. Daiki wanted to peel his skin off, rip it to shreds, stomp on it, and while at it, piss on it! Mind going through various methods to _kill that fucking arrogant sonnuva_ he stood up rigidly, shaking, and with every being of his fibre, pulled down the last barrier on his body, chucking it indignantly behind him, far from sight, standing hands akimbo. “Fucking happy now, Bakagami?!” He snapped. In turn, Kagami leaned over, eyes shamelessly not leaving an inch unapprised, while his tongue dragged across his lip, tucking his bottom lip between white teeth. “Very,” he said, low with that gruff voice of his. Before Daiki could even blush at the innuendo, Tetsu smacked Kagami, Kise and Midorima covered their faces; Takao full out laughed, banging the _chabudai_ and making it flip over, cards and all. “Get a room, you two~!!” Daiki cursed and proceeded to maintain what was left of his dignity.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** We were talking about stripping and running to our cars since it is like _freaking 51°C out there_ and I’ve parked amazingly far today. Like, you don’t understand…I needed to hitch a ride to get to the office o.O Besides that, while waiting eagerly for some ~~poor sap~~ one to take me to my car, I thought of this. Isn’t my brain working in the right direction at least? *smirks*

_Chabudai_ – you know, that low folding table that suddenly appeared in Kagami’s place during Winter Cup? Yea, that appeared here too.

And, um, they must be playing strip poker? Go Fish? Whatever floats your boat of course :D

Prompt for AoKaga Month: Loss (my take of it!)


	8. Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **The kohai is both loved and abused. Such conflicting senpai to deal with.**
> 
> [Triple Drabble. Baseball!AU]

* * *

 

 

Taiga sulked as he waited on the indicated bench crudely kicked by an incensed catcher, waves of displeasure wafting off dark taut skin. His head had automatically bowed when “Kagami you insolent brat!” was snapped at him earlier, making his mood pummel even further. Made to follow his senpai to the dugout for emergency (it _really_ was nothing) first aid, Taiga’s mouth moved soundlessly a few times to apologise—even if there was nothing to apologise for. “I don’t know why you think you can _use your face_ when trying to catch the return, but that isn’t the way it goes, you dumbass,” Aomine-senpai says, fussing and hissing at the kit in a way that makes Taiga realise he does not usually use it. It just goes to show how perfect his mentor and battery partner is, and that makes him feel even more terrible. “Sorry, Aomine-senpai,” he mumbles finally. Aomine-senpai’s back jerks in surprise, head snapping to look over his shoulder at him. Taiga catches wide, shocked blue eyes. Sighing, Aomine-senpai brings over whatever he was fiddling with, and roughly dabbing at his face (not even gently, the sadistic upperclassman) with an alcohol swab, he says, “Just take care of yourself. Your body isn’t yours anymore.” Locking eyes with a seriousness that made him freeze, Aomine-senpai continues, “It’s mine.” Taiga does not know how to look at him after such a bold statement, immediately going red in the face. “Oi! Stop looking away, I can’t see!” In the end, the scuffle they had in the dugout required some more first aid treatment, this time by an irate senpai with a mean right hook to the back of their heads. Aomine-senpai left first, shoulders hunched and carrying his preferred golden bat (the vain youth), leaving Taiga to cower before Kasamatsu-senpai.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Author’s Note:** Eh, so. It was still hot, and it’s still summer here—like honestly, we don’t have autumn for more than a week before winter hits—and I can’t get over AoKaga Battery, Aomine-senpai, and wannabe-Ace pitcher Kagami.

Sorry ;_;

AoKaga Month Prompts: Summer + Alcohol


	9. Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Taiga is at a loss for words.**  
> 
> 
> [Single drabble.]

* * *

 

 

He had done it; there was no two ways about it.

Taiga stared at the news cover as Aomine scored his usual buzzer beater, ending with a wide grin so unlike his blasé attitude when playing his games, but focused on what the reporter was saying as the dark skinned man deviously held onto that smile. Twirling on his index finger was the winning basketball, which when it slowed down, he tucked under his arm and pointed at the screen. Taiga’s heart beat loudly, thudding away, the activity he was doing long forgotten. Then Aomine spoke:

“Marry me, Kagami Taiga!”

 

 

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Eh, so some ex-colleague was trying to get me to come for her daughter's wedding...but I'm the last person to dress decently enough for a full-bang Muslim wedding (you know the one, where the men and women are separate for the reception? Yea. That one.), so I was thinking about how to get out of it, and  _I'm_ at a loss for words.

AoKaga Month Prompt: Loss

 


	10. Picking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **It’s always nicer to spend the night with someone. Daiki’s decision is just…not the right one.**
> 
> [Single Drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Daiki wants to give his number to the hot-bod just across the bar, but it seems as if he is least interested in him after Daiki mentions what he does for a hobby, sad as it was—he absolutely loves appraising gravure models—but he forges into conversation artfully enough that it almost surprises him when the other offers to spend the night, that is, until Kagami Taiga in all his splendid animalistic glory, slams a hand between them on the bar, glaring at the shocked barkeep, saying, “I’m paying his tab; now fucking stop trying to get picked up.” 

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:** In the same verse as Chapter 5: 'Taste'


	11. Willing Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Taiga makes an easy decision when it comes to his food and sanity.**  
> 
> 
> [Double Double Drabble.]
> 
> Introducing: _Kise Ryōta._  
> 

* * *

 

Daiki is pissed when Taiga returns from his grocery run, struggling to pass him with arms loaded with his purchase. The redhead ignores him on these days, as usual, and proceeds to the kitchen, quickly shelving the cold items before taking his time with the dry stuff. He is almost finished when Daiki starts to speak. “Why don’t you ever let me join you?” he asks, his pitch a decibel away from whining. Taiga, glancing over his shoulder, shrugs. “No seriously, you’d rather take Kise and get it done but you won’t take a fucking _willing party_. What gives?” They have had this fight one time too many, and Taiga knows exactly where the dialogue was going. Figuring that Daiki would not let up unless he tells him, Taiga sighs. “Why does everything have to be a competition to you?” Daiki scowls even more, hands gripping his hips tightly. Taiga’s eyes dart to them then back at his boyfriend. “Tell you what, next time, you come along and see why I don’t take you along.” Agreeing, Daiki escapes to the living room; he offers to grocery shop, not put away the groceries. Taiga hurries now and picks up his gym bag, off to a street court, leaving the uninvited Daiki to mope.

Fast forward to next week, as Taiga instructs him to stay put at the corner of the designated store, Taiga sends Kise marching further in, the blonde’s face holding up a pained watery smile. The second the women shoppers see Kise, they are already filling his baskets with limited editions and good buys and “is that scary man still bothering you Ryō-chan? Here, take some cake too and make him pay for it” and “He looks like he needs more milk, here Ki-chan, take this fortified stuff”, and this continues until Daiki, slack-jawed, watches Taiga and Kise lug their items to the cashier in ten minutes, pay for it within three minutes, and by the time they have greeted the women goodbye, they are out at a record breaking eighteen minutes. “See?” Taiga said, hoisting off some of the bags to a non-responsive Daiki. “If I take you along, I have to do all the work, while babysitting you. With Kise, all I owe him is a basketball game. Now you tell me,” trying not to smile, “Exactly which willing party am I going to make use of?”

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** OTL . I’m sorry. X_X


	12. From the Stock - I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Daiki meets the man who is the cause of Taiga’s lonely days.**
> 
> [Double drabble.]

* * *

 

Daiki does not call out when he slams the door open, annoyed that the redhead was not answering his phone when he had been calling earlier. “Taiga!” He demanded, and when no answer was forthcoming, he roared, “Kagami, you better get your ass out here, this instant!”

Some shuffling and a muffled curse later, a redhead walked down from the passage way as Daiki fumed. “You know, my mom wanted me to bring you something and you—” he paused, looking at the male that entered, “—are not Taiga.”

“Well, you called out for a Kagami. That’s technically me,” the man answered. Daiki took in the tall hefty stature; the wrinkles, the brush of grey interspersed with the shock of red, and deduced that this was the stock from where his Kagami Taiga came from. And was the stock as great as a god, Daiki decided, glad Taiga would look like this in his prime.

“Um, _Otōsan_?” Daiki hazard.

“I’m not you father, kid,” the redhead returned, amused, but Daiki knew that if he slipped on the honorific, he would probably be booted. “And? How’d you get into my house? Who are you?”

Daiki gulped. Who was he indeed.

 

 

* * *

 


	13. Expedient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Daiki knows the drill but wishes he can do more.**
> 
> [Triple Drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Daiki returns to a darkened home and he does not have to struggle much to find the other occupant. Without a word, he has stripped off his shoes and walked to their bedroom, instantly seeing the huddled form of the redhead he loves so much. The draperies were left undrawn, the cool white beams of the moonlight the only source for Daiki to pad across the room, and hunker down to Taiga.

He does not speak; he knows the drill.

Carefully manoeuvring his body to sit flush behind the redhead, Daiki rests his chin on the protruding clavicle, cheek pressing against Taiga’s ear, he sighs deeply as he gathers Taiga in his open embrace.

Taiga does not push him away.

“I didn’t save him,” a soft, broken voice whispered. Tanned hands gripped the tense midsection even more, trying to force all his soothing energy through even though it seemed for nought. “I didn’t save him.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Daiki wants to say but those words are a loaded bomb and _that_ will make Taiga push him away and he does not want that. So he remains diligent in preserving the other’s feelings, holding him close and listening to him, showing him that he was not alone and he should not be alone now. Daiki wishes he knew what to say but he has never known before, and even now with Taiga beside him, he fails at being perceptive on how to save him. Taiga has always been there for him—always will be there for him—but when Taiga needs him most…

Daiki holds Taiga tighter, tucking the man in his embrace, he pleads to anyone who is listening, for Taiga to not push him away, while as the seconds go on he feels the heavy weight of guilt.

 

 

* * *

 

 

AoKaga Month Prompt: Push.


	14. Not Comparable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Taiga does not agree with the others; he's got his own thoughts to consider.**  
>  [Double Drabble.]  
> Introducing: _Imayoshi Shoichi_  
> 

* * *

 

 

Taiga watches as Aomine-senpai continues to lash out to Kise and Kuroko, knowing the elder will get cheek from the both of them, more so now that they are together. He finds it humorous that the darkly tanned male even bothers to reprimand them when he complains of their lacking abilities. Unbeknownst to Taiga, someone else is watching him watch Aomine-senpai, and it is an Old Boy that he does not want attention from.

“What ar’ ya starin’ at?” Imayoshi-san asks in that classic accent of his. Taiga already has enough problems understanding normal mainstream Japanese, and then this idiot trots along.

Trying not to cringe, he answers as respectfully as he can muster, “Nothing…sir.”

Imayoshi-san cocks an unbelieving eyebrow at him but does not call him out on it. “Ah think there’s somethin’ ya can see right o’er there, don’t ya~?” he jerks a thumb but Taiga already knows where he’s pointing. “The disappearin’ second baseman, and the blindin’, attention-grabber shortstop. Aren’t those two fascinatin’~?”

Taiga does not respond. The fascinating one he sees is only Aomine-senpai. Not like Imayoshi-san will ever hear that from his mouth. Or even Aomine-senpai; Taiga will forever be dancing to his tune then.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** Imayoshi…is a little difficult for me to write out. I can hear him in my head, but I can’t seem to write the way he speaks. Sheesh.


	15. Enough is Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Run On Sentences - First Take:**  
>  “Enough is Enough”  
> 

* * *

 

 

 

Kagami stares at the meal he has just made, wondering yet again how he had succumb to the wiles of the man still lounging on the couch, not moving an inch when he had called for help (playing deaf, no doubt) that he decides _enough is enough_ , saying, “Aomine, you need to get onto a weight loss program; you’re getting a paunch,” only to receive a scandalised look in return.

 

 

* * *

 


	16. Outtake 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Outtake of KnB Chapter 82/S2 Episode 3**

* * *

 

 

When Kagami fails to dunk the ball, head-butting the hoop instead, Kuroko mentions that Aomine will probably hear about the game. Little do they know, Imayoshi has already snapped a picture for proof and sent it to Aomine.

Aomine, on the other hand, chokes on his spit when he sees it, reading the “Your boyfriend’s the best, seriously~!”, and he agrees when the second image sometime later arrives with Kagami’s speciality head-butt and dunk move, because honestly, _who does that?!_

Somewhere else in the stands, a man slaps his face and mumbles, “Fuck, Sakuragi all over again.”

 

 

* * *

 


	17. Watch Your Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentence – Take Two:**  
>  “Watch Your Mouth” Goes Unsaid  
> Introducing: _Kise Ryōta & Kuroko Tetsuya_  
> 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ryōta was the first to notice, unfortunately, and he failed to keep his humour to himself when he commented, “Kagamicchi and Aominecchi look like those matching-couples, don’t they, Kurokocchi?” who looked at them over his vanilla milkshake, appraising, before a smirk settles on his face; Ryōta knew exactly what that look meant, so he burst out laughing until Aomine smacked his head onto the window, grinding it painfully against the surface.

 

 

* * *

 


	18. Helping Friends Is Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Run On Sentences – Take Three:  
>  “Helping Friends Is Good” But Not Killing Your Boyfriend Ensures You Get Some Later On.**  
> 

* * *

 

 

 

He knows he should be paying attention because  _damn, did Aomine look hot in those low riding jeans_ but all he wants to do is bury his face into his pillow, laugh himself to death, and maybe even write a few text messages (pictures included) to tell people exactly  _why_ he died, especially since Aomine had no clue he was still walking around with Momoi’s brand of sultry,  _do me like a slut_ eye make-up tutorial, and Taiga wishes out loud, “I’d like a tube of lipstick, right about now.” 

 

 

* * *

 


	19. Doesn't Look Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Doesn’t Look Right:**
> 
> **Aomine’s naïve existence proves that sometimes you need prior knowledge on these things and not what everybody seems to already know. Thank God Taiga was around and the only one to witness it first-hand.**

* * *

 

 

When he felt the stare on his back, Taiga turned around to question the other with suspicious eye motions, only to be snubbed. Annoyed—a feeling that would soon escalate into fury—he chucked his shirt to the side and asked, “What is your problem?”

Aomine shrugged, not looking back at him, but bounced the ball a few more times as if waiting. “Are you done yet? Let’s get started already; I’m meeting Satsuki later.”

Taiga did not like the tone he used, and as usual, was quick to get into his face about it. “Really now? What the fuck?”

Not one to let his anger go, Aomine too jerked his chin up to stare straight into Taiga’s eyes, blue eyes a furious, agitated—and was that nervousness?—swirling mixture that instantly made Taiga’s stomach tighten up. Before he could think on it, Aomine pushed him around and with a cool finger, circled something on his bare back.

Taiga shivered.

“What’s this?”

Then Taiga frowned.

“I don’t have eyes at the back of my head,” he said, almost adding _and don’t you keep touching me, you idiot_. But he does not know where the thought comes from, so he shrugs both it and the finger still lightly circling whatever it was that got Aomine’s panties in a bunch.

As he was about to partake on the quip, Aomine murmured, “It’s a love bite.”

And then Taiga froze, head automatically twisting to stare at Aomine whose sight was locked onto the supposed bite. He tried to work his mouth, but for the life of him, he did not know what to say. So he kept quiet.

“Well?” Aomine demanded. “Is it?!”

Swatting the hand again, Taiga blushed and looked away. “What’s it to you?”

“I don’t play with loose guys,” was the automatic reply making Taiga round on him and sputter in shock.

“What?” he scoffed. “I’m not loose. And what’s that got to do with basketball?”

Shifting all his weight from one foot to another, Aomine looked as though he wanted to rant about all the problems he had against Taiga. But the teenager did not, and that confused Taiga even more.

“Aomine?” he was about to turn around to completely face the other, but again, Aomine shot an arm out to keep him facing away. “What’s going on?”

“Is…is it a love bite?”

Reckoning this was going on too long, Taiga decided to be truthful. “Unless you call bruises from my coach’s triple workout love bites, I guess,” he humoured.

The moment of clarity surprised even him as he watched dark eyes clear to the bright blues he liked seeing on Aomine’s usually dispassionate face. Now that the problem was out of the way, Taiga started to move away to put on the shirt he had been trying to get into before Aomine had his silent conniption all by himself. However, Aomine stopped him again, this time by clamping his mouth on the junction between his neck and shoulder. With his teeth.

“The fuck?!”

Drawing his head back, Aomine viewed his handiwork. “Hmm, this seems wrong.”

“You fucking bit me!” Did the youth not realise what he was doing? Taiga almost punched him for his utmost stupidity before it clicked. And his mouth hung open in his second shock of the day. “Were…were you trying to give me a l-lo-love bite?” He hated that he stuttered, but…

Aomine frowned, clicking his tongue and looking away. One large palm held the basketball, forgotten in the grand scheme of things, the other resting stiffly on his hip. “So what if I am?”

Trying not to laugh at his face—Aomine was unusually sensitive about these things—Taiga reached over with one arm, tracing the arrogant male’s strong jaw with a thumb before he leaned over, “It’s like this, dumbass,” and proceeded to show him how a _real_ love bite was created.

In its plural sense, of course.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** Eh…I could have written hickey everywhere, but if I’m not mistaken, in Japanese, hickeys are translated to their “kisumāku” or something like that (if it’s anything else…well, chalk it up to the author being oblivious and uncultured). ~~And in my head, it just sounded cute with their incredulous, manly voices~~ XD 

 AoKaga Month Prompt: Touch.


	20. You Don't Want To Do That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Run On Sentences – Take 4:  
>  “You Don’t Want To Do That” Is Best Said Before The Action Happens**

* * *

 

 

Daiki was too busy stuffing the cold treat into his mouth to be aware of the dangerous stunt his boyfriend is partaking in, only because there was a blackout for most of the day and he had yet to go and fix the breaker when Taiga told him to, so he only sees the redhead reach over to check the fuse box then draws back when a loud crack and fizzle erupts alongside white puffy fumes out of said box, screaming out in shock, does Daiki say, “Ah, I forgot.”

 

 

* * *

 


	21. Pushing Off From That Pedestal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Script:  
>  Pushing Off From That Pedestal**

* * *

 

 

 

**[Enter AOMINE and KAGAMI]**

[AOMINE and KAGAMI exit a theatre where they have just watched the production of the play 'An Ideal Husband' by Oscar Wilde, when suddenly AOMINE stops short of the exit because KAGAMI refused to let the man off for crying during the play.]

 

AOMINE: Why do you put me on a pedestal?

KAGAMI: [Chokes on his drink.] Wha-

AOMINE: The error all women commit.  Why can’t you women love us, faults and all?  Why do you place us on monstrous pedestals? We-

KAGAMI: [Looking wildly in all directions, reaching out to physically grab Aomine.] The fuck are you saying?! Stop it! People are looking at us!!

[Unconcerned by the interruption, AOMINE continues on in a loud voice, drawing more attention of other theatre-goers.]

AOMINE: - love them knowing their weaknesses, their follies, their imperfections, love them all the more, it may be, for that reason.  It is not the perfect, but the imperfect, who have need of love.  It is when we are wounded by our own hands, or by the hands of others, that love should come to cure us—else what use is love at all?  All sins—

KAGAMI: [Exasperated.] Oh for the love of God.

[KAGAMI chucks the drink in his hand into a garbage can a meter away, grabs AOMINE and pushes him against the wall of the theatre, glaring at anyone who is looking at them, and kisses AOMINE.]

AOMINE: [Out of breath.] N-nice. If that was all it took to get you to kiss me, I would have memorised some more lines.

KAGAMI: [Glaring.] Don’t push it; you indirectly called me a girl.

[KAGAMI walks away with heavy stomps, now scowling. People make way before him but continue whispering, laughing and pointing. It is then that he turns to look back at the proud and pleased AOMINE.]

KAGAMI: Besides, who put you on a pedestal? Fucking sure it wasn't me.

[Flabbergasted, AOMINE stumbles as he follows after the quickly exiting KAGAMI.]

AOMINE: I'm sorry, wait! Kagami! I said, I'm sorry!

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**  Whew! That was a lot to update (but I'm still lagging behind by a few). Since this is reposting from my tumblr account, there will be multiple updates ~~as you already know~~. I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am :)

 


	22. From the Stock – II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Daiki has a bad feeling.**
> 
> [Triple Drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Daiki did not have to wait long in between being told off as politely as one could to not call him ‘father’ and wondering how to answer the blatant ‘Who are you?’ question, since Taiga was such a considerate individual who stumbled through the door, cursing softly in the _genkan_. There was a pause in which Daiki wondered what was taking so long and watching as the elder Kagami glanced at the door with a hint of unease and pique. Apprehensive to the last emotion clearly visible on the man’s face, Daiki turned to face Taiga entering the room.

The younger redhead froze on seeing him, eyes wide and lower jaw drooping a bit. Gone was the fierce, strong individual he was normally confronted with, replaced by this weary, injured animal.

Daiki was starting to like his situation even less now.

“Da-Aomine,” Taiga said, tone in between shock, concern and apology. Daiki, knowing it was the wrong time to pick a fight, pursed his lips in understanding. Taiga eased a little, bit stayed far from anyone’s reach. As though thinking fast, “Right, you said you’d be coming today. I’m sorry, my father came suddenly.”

Daiki shrugged. “No biggie.”

A low chuckle cut in between them. “You make it sound like I shouldn’t drop by in my own house, Taiga-kun,” the mellow pitch almost sounded misleading and Daiki realised that he was right when Taiga’s muscles bunched up; like he was trying not to up and run.

Fisting his hands, Daiki tried to interject politely. “Sorry about this, but I did tell my mother you would be coming for lunch.” He glanced at the elder. “Would you like to join us, Kagami-san?”

A brief pause settled wherein the redheaded father did not move his gaze from Taiga to Daiki.

Cue panic-attack.

 

 

* * *

 


	23. You Never Let Me See My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 5:  
>  “You Never Let Me See My Friends”**  
> Is Something They Are Glad Not To Have A Problem With.

* * *

 

 

Taiga tries to laugh, eat and have fun with his friends visiting from the States, excited that for once he can take them around the place and point out what can be done and what was so hip now—maybe even brag about all the crazy basketball players he knows and plays with—but he is finding it challenging as the minutes pass by, to not check his watch at every turn, anxious and waiting for the clock to strike his signal to leave, rushing through farewells and rushing to head home, only to breathe with relief when he sees the lone male awaiting his return to greet him warmly, if a little forlornly, “ _Okaeri_.”

 

 

* * *

 


	24. Be Respectful!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 6:  
>  “Be Respectful!”**  
> Was Probably His Mother's Most Used Phrase.

* * *

 

 

Taiga is a neat person by virtue, habit and authoritarian upbringing, so he does not understand why a simple request from him can be ignored numerous times when he knows that Daiki can do it—he has come to his house on occasions and had seen the feat possible—so why he does not do it here in Taiga’s place is so annoying that he hardly thinks when he grabs the pair of haphazardly discarded shoes and chucks them into the back of Daiki’s head, roaring, “How many times do I have to say it, you fucking twat!”

 

 

* * *

 


	25. There’s A Reason They Sell It In Bulk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences - Take 7:**  
>  “There’s A Reason They Sell It In Bulk”  
> Is Something They Wonder Why He Does Not Think About.  
> Introducing: _Kuroko Tetsuya & Kise Ryōta._  
> 

* * *

 

 

When the laces of his shoes snaps, and he skids to a stop in shock, Taiga’s eyes widen and water and he goes silent like someone told him his dog died; but that would be improbable because he cannot stand those furry creatures; so seeing him frozen in animation like that is a little unnerving to Kuroko and Kise, who even though they tried to cheer him up, the redhead remained in a frightful daze until he mumbled out, “What the fuck am I going to tell him?”; but Kuroko and Kise share a look, confused, because _can’t he just get replacement shoelaces? What is wrong with him?!_

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** Nike does! Five sets in a pack, I’m not kidding (there’s a dope in my life who buys it before he buys his shoes o.O).


	26. I’ll Do It Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Lights on AOMINE and KAGAMI.  
>  They are seen pressed close together, struggling in each other's arms.**  
> 

* * *

 

 

**KAGAMI:** C’mon, you dumbass! Move it or we are never listening to you again.

[KAGAMI nudges him a little, but AOMINE holds fast, gripping KAGAMI’s wrists.]

**AOMINE:** Easy for you to say. Last time I hardly made it.

**KAGAMI:** Because you suck at anything but being an asshole. Now get.

**AOMINE:** Fuck no. Gimme a minute. I need to calm myself down. Perfection isn’t achieved in a—what the hell am I saying? I am already—

**KAGAMI:** Fuck if you are, I’ll do it myself!

**AOMINE:** No, fuck, no don’t move! Ngh! Kagami you bastard! I told you to arghhhhh—!

 

 

* * *

Where Aomine and Kagami are the last ones to jump from the moving train. Divergent!AU


	27. From the Stock – III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Daiki can play his A-game as well.**  
>  [Triple Drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Anticipating the worst-possible-scenarios, Daiki was surprised by the light shake of his head and a small smile on his lips. “No, that is quite alright, um…I still didn’t get your name.”

Daiki cursed internally. “Forgive my rudeness,” he apologised and even Taiga looked at him incredulously. “Aomine Daiki, sir.”

Elder Kagami nodded. “Ah, is that so. Well, Daiki-kun, thank you for the offer but I have just arrived, so I think I will stay in today. Do wish your mother and thank her for treating my son.”

Soon, after stiff farewells, Daiki and Taiga were briskly walking out of the apartment complex and to the trains. “Sorry,” Taiga mumbled before Daiki had a chance to say anything.

“For what?” He murmured, allowing his closest hand to brush against the redhead’s lightly curled one. Taiga instantly straightened his fingers to make more deliberate brushes, knocking their knuckles together.

“My dad and I, just…” Taiga glanced down. “It’s not like we hate each other or anything, but we just don’t know each other.” Daiki frowned. “Stop it with that look. He’s not a bad man; I just feel uncomfortable when he’s around.” Taiga sighed. “Like I don’t know what will push him away or what he’ll get mad at, so I don’t know how to act around him.”

Daiki nodded. They hardly ever broached the topic about their families, only Daiki’s mother since she wondered what Daiki ate when he stayed out so late and had stopped asking for much spending money. Then the minute she had met Taiga, it was like she found the baby-switched-at-birth. “Look how polite he is, Daiki!” or “See what a good cook he is, Daiki!” It was not like he went out of his way for his mother to say that.

But sometimes…it would be nice.

 

 

* * *

 


	28. Plus One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 8:  
>  “Plus One”**  
> Refers To Whom Exactly, Is The Question.

* * *

 

 

Daiki does not understand why he has to bring Taiga to all the _Kiseki no Sedai_ ’s occasions as a ‘plus one’ even though Taiga sounds nice being an extension of him, but he cannot help feeling slighted for Taiga—the redhead is his own man and while Daiki can get a little (a lot) possessive of who the man spends his time with, he likes when Taiga can assert himself in their relationship—so he wants the others to get a grip and change their attitude or there will be hell to pay, especially if they think Taiga is the lower one in their relationship; however, he is not too sure how he likes that now, their invitations read Kagami Taiga and _plus one_ , those fuckers.

 

 

* * *

 


	29. Immodest Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Script:  
>  Immodest Proposal**

* * *

 

 

[AOMINE enters the set where KAGAMI is at the sink, washing the evening’s dishes. He clears his throat to get KAGAMI's attention.]

AOMINE: We have to decide on things tonight.

[KAGAMI stops washing dishes to glance behind at AOMINE standing arms akimbo at the kitchen entrance, looking oddly determined.]

KAGAMI: What are you talking about?

AOMINE: [Frowning.] About my proposal.

[KAGAMI turns back to his chores, ignoring the sputtering behind him. There is a distinct forceful bang with each item he handles. It goes unnoticed by AOMINE.]

KAGAMI: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

AOMINE: The one on TV! The one where I told the world I wanted to marry you!! The one where my mother called me to ask who ‘this Kagami Taiga chick’ was!!

KAGAMI: Stop screaming. You’ll disturb the neighbours.

AOMINE: Fuck the neighbours!

KAGAMI: God, no. You can if you want but then you’re not coming anywhere near me.

[AOMINE panics. He has no idea what to do. He looks around the kitchen, thinking, and sees that KAGAMI is almost done. Suddenly, an idea hits him, and brightening, he places his hands on his belt buckle.]

AOMINE: Okay, so this is how we’re going to do it. I’ll take off one article of clothing for every answer you give me.

KAGAMI: [Scoffs, clearly mocking.] What is this, stealing from ‘About Time’. Don’t be an idiot. I just denied you sex. What makes you think I’ll play this game with you?

[AOMINE screams in frustration, pulling his hair in fistfuls.]

AOMINE: C’mon, Taiga! Why are you being like this? In front of the whole world I told them I wanted to marry you!

[KAGAMI bangs his hands on the kitchen isle between them, furious. He is so angry, his face has changed its calm expression.]

KAGAMI: First of all, you commanded me to marry you!

AOMINE: I can change that! Now, I’m literally begging you! I’ll get onto my knees and do it all over again! [AOMINE is sounding pitiful to anyone watching, but KAGAMI shows no remorse. In fact, he looks angrier.]

KAGAMI: I don’t want that! Who cares if you beg! You—!

AOMINE: [Waiting with bated breath.] What?

KAGAMI: You…didn’t come to me and say it.

[AOMINE is stunned.]

KAGAMI: [Continues.] I wanted…you to come before me and ask me, not so far away where you can’t… [KAGAMI chokes.] Can’t even see what my reaction looks like.

[AOMINE does not say anything for his jaw has gone limp. He stretches out an arm to lightly touch KAGAMI's chin, bringing it upwards so as to face him. AOMINE smiles.]

AOMINE: I- I didn’t think about that. In my head, I already saw you saying yes, smiling and laughing and crying. I didn’t think I’d come home to a vase flying at my head.

KAGAMI: [Embarrassed, moved away from the hand holding his chin.] I didn’t like that vase. Good riddance.

[AOMINE ignores the words since his head was still sore and aching. Instead, he grips KAGAMI's hands on the table and squeezes it.]

AOMINE: How about a do over?

KAGAMI: [Sniffling.] Nah, I already know what you’re going to say.

AOMINE: [Instantly brightening.] Then that means—

KAGAMI: So this time, I’ll turn down your proposal, you give a speech to the whole world saying you’re in the doghouse, and then I’ll think about it.

[KAGAMI starts to exit the set even as AOMINE grabs hold of his waist to stop him.]

AOMINE: No! This is going in the wrong direction! I was planning to seal the deal tonight, not plan for the next one! No, damnit! TAIGA!!!

 

 

* * *

 

 

In which Aomine never learns to ask. Follows "Speechless".


	30. You’re Sleeping Out Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentence – Take 9:  
>  “You’re Sleeping Out Tonight”**  
> Was Not A Funny Joke.

* * *

 

 

 

Daiki knows that for every mistake Taiga calls him out on, he is being loved even more, and Daiki acknowledges that the redhead will still stay with him despite the fault; granted, Daiki would rather the other did not bother noticing it as it would lead to less headaches-induced-by-thrown-vases (that his mother got, too) and more  _let’s get down to the dirty and blow your mind away from what pissed you off in the first place;_ nevertheless, Taiga would smile, kiss him and wish  _good night, Daiki_ , but still close the door on his face because he went through the trouble of setting the sofa up for him.

 

 

* * *

 


	31. Dissonant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Disoriented, he moves and the other comes to him.  
>  He does not really need to hear it, but he will never allow that to be taken away from him.**
> 
> Warning: There is nothing funny about this. But nothing sad either.  
> AU!Careers.

* * *

 

 

 

He goes dizzy with the shock of the pain he feels, clutching at the arm of the person before him. Someone holds him up, steadying him, but all he knows is the agony. It had been so sudden, as though a gun had been fired near his temple, the reverberations echoing for one glorious moment, refusing to die out, and then the intense numbing sound that failed to be only that. A hand curls around his temple, wanting to scratch out the uncomfortable resonating pain, but even the slightest touch sends him reeling. Above and around him people are saying things, and he knows this because he can feel it vibrate the air around him.

_It’s loud_. That is the only thought processing quickly enough for him to catch onto. _So fucking loud._

He is hoisted up and quickly taken aside, and someone is pulling off his clothes because he is not responding. _How should I speak?_ There are insistent hands everywhere, and they are unforgiving in their torment of disrobing him. He tries to swat them away, he has to get up and get out there again, but whoever is helping him is not leaving him.

The sound goes in and out, a sense of tuning, and he tries to concentrate on it. It is easier to do rather than look up and try to distinguish one person from another. The light surrounding them is also messed up, and no matter what he does, he is already too disoriented to really function for the moment.

_Fuck_. Someone pats him and moves away, and he gets the distinct feeling that he was abandoned. Safe to move now, he sits up, stumbles a bit as he tries to stand, until an arm wraps around his waist. It is foreign, so he squirms away, but the arm follows. _Fuck it, this sucks._

He scrunches his eyes, blinking away the residue of pain he feels. A throbbing has settled in his head now, warm and hot, cold and loud; he reaches an arm again to drag his hand against the side of his face, heaving.

“-ne!” He swirls, surprised. “-ne!” There it is again. “Aomine!” the voice is closer now and even louder than he thought was possible, cringing and squatting to curl away from the hurtful decibels the other insists on belting out. “What happened to you? Why are you undressed?”

“…” He does not know if his words come out, but he soon gets a front view of red hair and red eyes, and the background is dusted in gold and red and clouds of dark grey and black and white smoke. There is no recognition in those red eyes, so he moves his mouth again. “Ear…drum…too…loud.”

A furrow forms between thick eyebrows. The normally frowning mouth dips more as an obvious “huh?” escapes. He can hear this as well.

He almost wants to scream if it would not add to the pain in his head.

“Did something happen to you ear?” was finally asked and safely, he nodded. “Oh.”

_Oh, indeed. Please stop screaming now._ He grabs the triceps of the redhead before him, trying to convey his message.

“Oh,” is repeated. “Well, everything will sound loud to you now before you lose hearing. Is it burst?” there is an obvious slowing down of speaking happening here, and he can almost see the conscious effort to pronounce the words carefully. He appreciates it more so because it gives him a reason to look at those lips without worrying who was watching. He barely takes a bleak glance around, but there is already so much activity, he assumes no one was really watching over the two of them.

He reaches over and places his lips lightly on the redhead’s for a second, before he moved to deepen the kiss. Soot and heat are the first things he registers of the kiss, before a large hand wraps around the nape of his neck and holds him in place. The redhead swipes a tongue across his lips before he parts, a twitch forming on his own set. A grin, a knocking of foreheads, and a relieved breath exhaled, and Kagami was pulling him up along as he stood.

“Come on, you’ll be fine.” The words are barely heard in the humdrum around them. “I’ve to go back, you just sit tight, aho, you know, in case you trip over yourself because you ‘lost balance’.” And Kagami is laughing. He watches, the shoulders shaking up and down, eyes scrunched up into slits and face, though spattered in soot, was bright red from exertion. The redhead’s lips are cracking as they stretch wide; an open-mouthed laugh.

He lays a hand on his chest, and watches it briefly as it moves up and down with the motion, can feel as the other struggles to take in a breath between each shot of laughter. He can imagine the light treble as it starts the timbre of its body and the pitch as it ends; can feel the ghosting of the air breathed out as the laugh continues. He curls his fingertips slightly, not relinquishing the contact.

He does not want to admit it but, this tiny moment makes him wonder how he would live his life without being able to hear a word from the other. _No more nagging._ He almost laughs aloud, and Kagami is already laughing too long. He smacks the other’s chest, pushing him and waving off the concern with a pout—that gets him another fir of laughter—before Kagami reels in for a quick peck before turning around and jogging back to the mess of blown up concrete and raging fire.

_No more hearing his laugh_.

The mere thought has him pivoting on his heel, searching for the medi van, and making a beeline to it, he flags down an EMT. “How the fuck is my ear?” he shouts out loud to get his message across.

He never wants to miss a single laugh again.

 

 

* * *

AoKaga Month Prompt: Loud


	32. From the Stock - IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **At least one woman welcomes him home.**
> 
> [ ~~21 words larger than a~~ Double D.]

* * *

 

 

They are almost at his home when Daiki straightens his posture, as he was wont to do every time he brought Taiga over. Taiga used to laugh at him, saying if he did not have the balls to come out to his parents, he should just stop pretending he was about to whenever Taiga was invited over.

Daiki, on the other thinks differently. One day, he either will break his mother or make her dreams come true when he tells her what Taiga really is to him. For now, he will sit on his hands and twiddle his toes until she decides for herself that she is done tormenting him when she praises the redhead.

Just as he opens the door, Daiki remembers something.

“What about your mom?” He asks. Taiga is startled out of his growing smile. “Are you close to her?”

Taiga’s tight-lipped stance was all that he needed for now.

Silent, they continued inside. His mother pops her head from the living-room, her eyes brightening and her smile widening. “Tai-chan!” she croons, because she gets ‘ _Stop it, you’re embarrassing me_ ’ from her only child. Taiga reacts sweetly, and Daiki and his mother watch as he stoops his head, blushing at the endearment. “I’m glad you could make it!”

Taiga laughs. “What I wouldn’t do to eat your food,  _oba-chan_.”

 

 

* * *

 


	33. Think About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Script:  
>  Think About It.**  
> 

* * *

  

 

[Lights come on the set where a man with dark blue hair sits on a suitcase under the dim, flickering lamppost. The scene is where a bridge arcs over a flowing river, long grass takes up the floor, and the noise of insect life is loud. The man, AOMINE, sighs.]

AOMINE: Now what to do?

[He looks around at the area devoid of life. The phone in his hand is dead. Forlorn, he gets up to wander around.]

AOMINE: I shouldn’t have done that. Now I’m really at a loss.

[Enter KAGAMI, who is jogging along the river bank and crosses the bridge. He sees AOMINE, recognises him and slows down with a frown on his face.]

KAGAMI: [Surprised] Aomine? What are you doing here?

AOMINE: Ah? Kagami? What brings you this side of town?

[KAGAMI does not answer. He shifts into a pose that says all, and embarrassed at the obvious, AOMINE looks away.]

KAGAMI: So? What are you—why are you with your suitcase?

[AOMINE emulates the same pose. KAGAMI however, cocks an eyebrow.]

KAGAMI: You do know my imagination can run wild and I’ve already thought of five different things that you are on your ass for?

AOMINE: Oh? Let’s hear it then, this wild imagination of yours!

[AOMINE sits back down on his suitcase, grinning up at the scowling redhead.]

KAGAMI: You didn’t pay rent and couldn’t please your landlord so you were kicked out.

AOMINE: Nah, I’m always on time with the rent. [Excited.] But you’re close!

KAGAMI: [Frowning, he brings up a hand to count down.] You picked a fight with some hoodlums and they followed you home to terrorise you and your neighbours, so you got kicked out.

AOMINE: [Loud raucous laughter.] Oh, hell no! Too many Yakuza dramas you’ve been watching, I see!

KAGAMI: No, I don’t have time for those. [KAGAMI flips the middle finger, counting.] You banged the landlord’s spouse.

AOMINE: [Cringing.] Hell no!! That’s fucking sick. [He shivers and rubs down his arms.]

KAGAMI: You harassed your pretty, big bosomed neighbour who threatened to call the cops, so your landlord kicked your filthy ass out.

AOMINE: [Grinning.] You’re right about having a pretty, big bosomed neighbour. But she was also pretty pregnant to boot. [He sighs.] You’re not getting any closer.

KAGAMI: [Arms akimbo.] Well then, why don’t you just tell me what it was that got you kicked out?!

AOMINE: [Sucks in a lungful of air. He pouts.] The very same pregnant neighbour complained about me to my landlord—

KAGAMI: [Snaps fingers and points.] AH-HA!

AOMINE: —about how loud I was masturbating every day.

[Loud cricket noises.]

AOMINE: [Snaps.] Well say something!!

KAGAMI: [Shrugs.] No seriously, I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s like…you fell to a new low?

AOMINE: New low?! What the hell??

KAGAMI: [Eyes wide.] I can already see it. [Nodding.] Yup, I’d definitely throw you out too.

AOMINE: [Screaming.] Stop imagining it! This is embarrassing!! Why would you tell me that?!

KAGAMI: [Pointing at AOMINE.] You do know that this reaction of yours is unpleasant. I mean, shouldn’t I be raving and ranting not to be told this? [Raising his voice.] And how is me thinking about it embarrassing you?! You were fucking thrown out of your home for masturbating, you complete moron!!

AOMINE: Don’t snap at me! And think about it, how would you feel if I thought about you masturbating with your head thrown back, looking hot and bothered, and making all sorts of pleasurable noises?! [Blushing.] You’d feel embarrassed too!!

[Loud cricket noises.]

KAGAMI: [Blushing.] Oh my god, did you just imagine me masturbating and being hot and bothered and—

AOMINE: [Waving his hands about and screaming.] DON’T think about it!!

 

 

* * *

 


	34. This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Taiga and Daiki and children.**  
>  Or maybe it is more appropriate to think:  
> Taiga and six children.  
> 

* * *

  

 

Daiki runs into the room, skidding on the heels of his feet, looking harried and anxious, but most of all _guilty_. “Okay, just listen before anything happens,” he starts to say. Taiga abandons reading to glance wearily at the door the other just entered through, and can almost make out the distant sound of a noise he is not sure what to make out of. “Um, I was, you know, doing my thing, and coming back, and I really really—oh please believe me—did not mean for this to happen.”

Before Taiga can ask what his _this_ meant, the _this_ came hollering into the room, raising long 30-centimetre rulers over their warheads from where he does not know, but they are balancing just on their crowns perilously. Any moment now, Taiga was waiting for one of them to trip over a trailing warhead and fall to their fail, shattering teeth and all.

“…Pray tell,” he began, and Daiki looked over at him from the long train the children ended up making, surprised the man could even hear him over the noise, “What possessed you to allow them to play like that.”

There is no question, so Daiki does not bother answering it. Instead his lower lip wobbles, and his eyes take on a sheen—and Taiga wonders if there were six children and not five—before wailing not from Daiki but from one of the five real children echoes in his skull and around his mostly barren living room.

“I sorry!!”

“Shut up!” Taiga roared at him, unfortunately getting to the children as well since whoever was making the god-awful noise paused for a whole three seconds before resuming their crying. This time, there was an echo and a chorus to boot. “Oh my god, this is not happening.”

Taiga rushes to the children, all looking the same to him, and he tries to figure out which one of them he should pick up first. Daiki, beside him, does the same, only he does manage to pick up a child. Cooing and patting his back, and looking for all the world competent in his task, Taiga forgets what he was supposed to be doing.

Before he can help it, a smile passes through his filter unbidden.

Dark blue eyes flicker to catch his stare, questioning at his pause, and Taiga snaps out of it. Grabbing one brat that was as loud as his blond father, Taiga confesses, “Thank the heavens you aren’t a woman.”

Daiki chuckles, nuzzling the girl child who is giggling at his antics. “But you’d still prefer my ass, won’t you?”

Taiga uses Ryōta’s hyperactive child to kick the leer off Daiki’s face.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:** The Children. I’ll let you decide who their parents really are.

 


	35. The Aesthetics of Picking Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Script:**  
>  The Aesthetics of Picking Fights.  
> 

* * *

 

 

[Enter Aomine with a peculiar hat pulled down over his ears. Already on set is a redheaded man, KAGAMI, browsing a menu. Quaint music is setting the mood for this auspicious lunch date.]

 

KAGAMI: [Looks up at the approaching footsteps.] Oh, you look…

AOMINE: [Scowling] What? Just say it already!

KAGAMI: [Shakes his head, a smile twitching at his lips.] No, it’s fine. You look…fine. Here sit.

[KAGAMI pushes the chair across from him with his foot.]

AOMINE: [Peeved] You should treat me better.

KAGAMI: Oh, trust me, I am.

Aomine: [Still scowling] I feel the love, alright.

[He glances around the quiet café, finding it empty.]

AOMINE: I thought you said this was a popular place?

KAGAMI: [Scoffs] You would think this place gets customers so late in the day? [He pushes the menu towards Aomine.] Everyone’s working, you idiot. Now order quickly so I can go back.

AOMINE: [Looking dissatisfied at the treatment.] Lately, you’ve been scrimping off on the gentlemanly vibes. What gives?

[KAGAMI is busy with his phone.]

KAGAMI: [Looks back at AOMINE.] Hm?

AOMINE: [Annoyed.] I said-! You know what, forget it. What are you getting? [Reads the menu.]

KAGAMI: Never mind me. I’ve already ordered. You can dig in when it comes.

AOMINE does not answer, grumpily turning the two pages in the menu repeatedly. KAGAMI watches him, amused, and AOMINE is starting to get angry.]

AOMINE: Stop staring at me. It’s disgusting.

KAGAMI: [Smirking.] But I’m in love with you, I can’t help it.

[KAGAMI reaches forward to touch AOMINE's face, but the other jerks away.]

AOMINE: [Scowling.] Keep your hands to yourself.

KAGAMI: [Raises his eyebrows.] That wasn’t what you were saying the last time.

AOMINE: [Blushing.] Shut up. We’re in public.

KAGAMI: [Suspicious.] So what? Who’s the one who likes to make people uncomfortable with PDA? I’m surprised your argument doesn’t entail ‘there’s not enough people’.

AOMINE: [Still blushing.] Whatever. Just don’t touch me today.

[KAGAMI, looking to be agreeing, suddenly shoots across the table. AOMINE anticipating the move, ducks away. Instead, KAGAMI manages to graze his hand across the peculiar hat AOMINE chose to wear and they both watched it flop a few feet away. Before AOMINE could run after it, KAGAMI stares, mouth agape.]

KAGAMI: Is there something you’re not telling me?

AOMINE: [Panicking as he scrambles for the hat.] No! Stop looking! Close your fucking eyes!

[A waitress comes to see what is wrong, but promptly backtracks, hand over her bursting mouth, cheeks puffed up. AOMINE glares at her.]

KAGAMI: No, you do. What is that? [Pointing.] You said you were hanging with Momoi today, and she sends me this weird text, and… No, seriously, what is that?!

AOMINE: [Pressing the hat down over his head.] Shut up. It’s nothing.

KAGAMI: How is having 007, and is that…is that a falling “E” shaved into your head nothing? I think I’d like to know why my boyfriend’s carting around James Bond’s namesake on his head.

AOMINE: I’m not carting it around!

[AOMINE starts blushing, which causes KAGAMI to widen his eyes.]

KAGAMI: [Realising.] Is this…because I said you do not appreciate the aesthetics of James Bond last night?

AOMINE: [Blushes even more.] No.

[Kagami raises his eyebrows, stunned. He reaches out for AOMINE again, who flinches but does not move away.]

KAGAMI: You’re…an idiot, foremost, but you’re my idiot. [He tussles AOMINE's hair.] Did Momoi do this?

AOMINE: Yea, she…she also… [Embarrassed, he leans over to whisper in KAGAMI's ear.]

Kagami: [Starts.] Fuck you. [AOMINE looks away.] We’re going to my place. I’ve got to see this.

[AOMINE frowns but allows KAGAMI to drag him away. KAGAMI signals to the waitress he will pick up the food later, and they are out the door. Traffic bustles outside and the humidity stick to them. KAGAMI turns to AOMINE.]

KAGAMI: [Curious.] So she waxed all of you? Every part?!

AOMINE: [Roars.] Fucking-! [He smacks KAGAMI and walks away, shoulders hunched and hands fisted at his side.]

KAGAMI: Hey! Wait!

[AOMINE ignores him. He thinks for a second before he grins.]

KAGAMI: That’s the wrong direction! How am I supposed to appreciate your body that you waxed every inch of, if you don’t come back to my place?

AOMINE: [Stunned stiff, he swivels around, murderous.] I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!

[KAGAMI grins and starts running, making his way home, now that he knows AOMINE is following him.]

KAGAMI: [Stage whispers, grinning.] Dumbass.

 

 

* * *

Where Kagami knows exactly how to pick fights.


	36. From the Stock - V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Daiki sometimes thinks for Taiga because the other cannot seem to do so.**  
>  [Double Drabble.]

* * *

 

 

 

Daiki hears his mother cheer _“osomatsusama”_ and scoffs because Taiga has gone red at the ears from his mother’s too humble of a greeting. He wants to tell her the idiot would be fine with ‘nothing to worry’ or some-other-rubbish, but as he sits at the table, resting his head on his folded arms, he watches Taiga simmer in the pleasant interaction.

And Daiki wonders.

When they leave, his mother packs the largest container she has with all the freshly prepared food despite the insistent refusal from Taiga. Daiki takes the parcelled item from her, kisses her forehead wetly, and while exiting, sticks his tongue out petulantly at the names she calls him. Taiga follows, laughing.

Outside, Daiki complains about the weight, threatening to drop the foot, and Taiga reaches out to hold it. Quickly, hooking fingers that are trying to pry his hand off the bag, Daiki holds them captive. Taiga smiles, viciously happy in manner, he tugs Daiki closer, elbows bumping.

“I’m going to tell my mum,” he says simply.

Taiga sucks in air that does not complete a cycle. Slowly releasing it, Taiga shrugs, squeezing his fingers under the weight of the bag. “I’ve already told mine.”

 

 

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** I've only had older people say " _osomatsusama"_ when you reply with " _gouchisōsama_ " after a meal they have prepared. It generally means something along the lines of "It was something so little" or "I'm sorry to offer you such poor service" and thus, very humble. (I've to check the level of humility to be exactly sure, but this has been my experience. So...)


	37. Rain or Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Taiga notices something which he cannot pick on Aomine for.**  
>  (Where Taiga is a sweetie, and Aomine is ~~like~~ a brat.)

* * *

 

 

Aomine does many things that rake on Taiga’s nerves. In order to rectify that, the only way he sees that being possible is to understand his facial nuances because the male loved using their weird expressions over actually speaking. Like when he lazes about when he knows Taiga needs help in the kitchen, there would be this particular frown on his face, concentrating so hard—and Taiga always wanted to know what was going through his head—before Aomine grimaced and turned away, looking a hundred times more unhappy than he had started out.

_What was that?_ Taiga always feels despondent when this happens and maybe Aomine can tell when he starts to bang utensils and cooking pots and pans around. It makes Taiga’s mood pummel when Aomine refuses to tell him to stop his racket.

Then there are days when a gale starts, bordering on a storm, or it is pouring buckets, Aomine will sometimes stare out the window either with an admonishing look (“The fuck did you have to appear now of all times?”) or a puzzled hopeful mixture (“Oh please go away quickly; I wasn’t really expecting you.”). Taiga used to think it was funny, waiting for the _Teru Teru Bōzu_ to be strung somewhere on his balcony, but Aomine would just spend inordinate amounts of time making an army of them and litter his once pristine place.

Today was one such day.

Taiga, already annoyed his laundry was being pushed back, snapped at Aomine to either get a move on or to tie those baldies in a row. “It’s pointless to make them and hoard them.”

Aomine frowned, not looking up from his dexterous stuffing and tying.

“You could maybe be a help too, getting them up there.” Kagami pointed at his curtain rod. “Heck, I’ll even do you the favour of—”

“You’re wrong,” Aomine cut in, irately piling the finished ones, all perfectly constructed as though he does them so often he could be a professional at them. “I’m not hanging them up. they don’t really work.”

Taiga glared in his reflection, staring outside the window, hoping the wind and rain would burn by his stare so he could throw Aomine over the balcony. “Yea? Then why are you wasting my paper towels?”

“Hmm? Oh,” Aomine pauses in his almost obsessive-compulsive counting and stacking, and counting again. “Not really paying attention.”

Taiga turned, hands on his hips.

He watches Aomine then, because this is the first time the other has even bothered to deign Taiga with a conversation. His eyes dart to dark skin fingers caressing the dolls before they were added to the pile, and this time, Taiga does not miss it.

“Are you scared of storms?”

Aomine goes rigid but his hands are still moving, maybe even faster than before. He snaps, “What are you harping about?!” but to Taiga, that does not sound like a refusal or admission, so he holds in a sigh as he drops to sit across from Aomine on the floor.

“Teach me how to make one,” he says instead, and Aomine, mid count, glances up at him suspiciously. Taiga does not know what he sees, but Aomine’s eyes widen up momentarily. A second passes by before an arm reaches out for the roll he stole from the kitchen.

“Be prepared; I’m a harsh mentor,” he retorts, and Taiga chuckles, but still remains close, their knees touching, and their hands touching as Aomine instructs Taiga.

Taiga stops calling out on Aomine’s lack of _teru teru bōzu_ etiquette. There are much more different things he can pick on, starting with making the idiot lug his army back home with him.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** _Teru Teru Bōzu_ – I’m sure you guys know this; literally means “shining shining monk/baldy/boy” take your pick. A lot of my friends just call it baldies, and we used to just sit around on rainy days trying to make the most “bald” doll possible. It is supposed to ward off rain, and when hung upside down, it brings rain.

 


	38. From the Stock - VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **As usual, Taiga always seems to one-up him when it looks like Daiki will be winning the round.**  
>  Then again, neither was trying to make it a competition.  
> At least not this.  
> [Double the Double D.]

* * *

 

 

At the bottom of his apartment complex, Taiga hesitates to decide whether Daiki should follow him up or not. In fact, he is mulling over whether he should make it easier for the redhead by deciding for him, but before he can let go of the hand he is holding, Taiga starts to tug him, leading the way inside. “Come up, it’s hot.”

Daiki follows, pensive. He half hopes the redheaded father is asleep and half hopes he is awake for a stare down, and while he flips a mental coin over which he prefers, he enters the place he has started calling home to silence. Satisfied as he could be, he steps inside, only to stop short when he hears, “Taiga? There isn’t any food in here.”

“Ah!” Taiga lets go of Daiki’s hand, carrying the bag himself to the kitchen. “Then I’m glad obasan forced me to take this.” Taig is smiling brilliantly. “You should try it, it’s awesome.”

Daiki turns around the corner in time to see the wry smile on the father. “Better than yours?” A quick look at Taiga confirms the happy and embarrassed expression. Daiki looks back to see the redheaded father staring at him open-mouthed. “D-Daiki-kun, was it?” The  _‘what are you doing here_ again _?_ ’ was implied.

A familiar frown set on his face. “Yes, Kagami-san. I hope you enjoy my mother’s food. Taiga surely did.” In his head, Daiki was shooting himself in the head; was he trying to provoke the elder man, he did not know. But he knows that the face Taiga makes when praised by him, Daiki has never seen it before.

“Ah, yes.” Kagami-san nodded, and soon, Taiga is helping him. It does not take long for the three of them to (awkwardly) head over to the sofa which only really seats two of them. Taiga immediately pushes Daiki besides Kagami-san, and sits on the floor, draping an arm across his knees, effectively trapping him.  _That fool_ , Daiki thought.  _Is he trying to get us killed before I even get around to telling mum about us?_

“So, this is that guy you were talking to your mother about?” Daiki snapped his head toward one redhead than to the other, eyes wide. With the amount of pressure, he was sure they were going to pop right out of his sockets.

Taiga nods, stiff. “Yea. This is him, Aomine Daiki.”

 

 

* * *

 


	39. Outtake 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Outtake 2 of KnB Chapter 269:  
>  Second-Hand**  
> 

 

* * *

 

“Kuroko…” he starts, panting evening out, “All of that cheering was so heartfelt. You feeling more energised too?”

Tetsuya did not need to see Taiga. He already knew what he was doing. “Of course.” He takes in a few calming breaths. “But Kagami-kun,” he simply says, “I’m surprised you even heard anyone but Aomine-kun.”

“Shut up! He called our names!! Of course, I would look at where he’s standing so embarrassingly and shouting at us in front of—”

“Is that so?” Tetsuya tries not to smile. “For a second there, it looked like you were more embarrassed than he was. That’s why your face was removed from the panel. It was too hilarious to keep and more dramatic to cut off.”

Taiga glares. “What the— Second-hand embarrassment, Kuroko! It’s second-hand embarrassment! Don’t ruin the mood with your shit!”

And then, blazingly furious, Hyuuga-senpai snarls, “We aren’t done with this match yet!”

 

 

* * *

  **Author's** **Note:**  Tell me I wasn't the only one who thought so!


	40. High School Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 10:  
>  “High School Reunions”**  
> Should Stop At Humans Even if the Dog Was The Reason He Has Two Afterglows

* * *

 

 

It ended up being the dog that won the race, even though Taiga had a head-start and Furihata followed close behind, but it was still the dog that managed to—in all his vicious energy—outrun Taiga and take the gold; it was also probably for the better because the cheer-up “affection” bestowed upon him by Daiki was a hundred times more satisfying than the make-up variety, but Taiga was never going to tell the man that; but as they basked in the afterglow, Daiki mumbled out something of how _Tetsu, that little fuck, owes me a hundred_ , which promptly makes Taiga assume the worse, so as mad as he could get in post-coital bliss, they end up having that not-as-great-as-cheer-up-sex-but-close make-up sex before Taiga kicked him off the bed.

 

 

* * *

**Author’s Note:** This was too long. But not one green line in MS Word :D


	41. Tiger's Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **If one does not dare to enter the tiger’s lair, how does one expect to catch it?**

* * *

Daiki is beyond unsatisfied. Day and night he is the only one thinking about what to do, where to go, how to act, what to say, and he thinks Kagami is only riding along because he finds it difficult to say something against it. So he decides one day to end it, saying, “I am always the one who waits for you. Is it just me that can’t feel your love?”

But Kagami sits there, still, unmoving, unfeeling.

“Even before we got together, you were distant and I had to pursue our relationship despite telling me that you too were thinking of me more than a friend would. But why,” he clenches a fist against his chest, pained, bent over at the waist at the intense gripping feeling, “Why can’t I feel satisfied being beside you anymore?”

As Kagami fails to talk to him, Daiki moves away from the redhead, angry regardless, and goes to take his coat and put on his shoes and leave for the final time because—as he has always known—he was unloved.

“I…” the man starts to say as he is by the door, starting to stuff his feet in his shoes, “I am always thinking about what to do, what to say, when to touch you, when to kiss you, how long to hold you, how far to be apart from you, how many times to call you or is this time I have to message you?” Kagami’s voice is shaking, quivering at the end of his sentence as though out of breath even as he spoke slowly and deliberately. He glances over his shoulder at the bowed redhead, “I am always thinking about you that…I don’t know what I want to do finally.”

Daiki straightens, takes a deep breath, “Then…what do you want to do now?”

Kagami chuckles, a pained sound rather than relieved, “That I want to grab you and tie you down and never let you leave me?”

Daiki snorts before it bubbles into laughter loud and hard, and he starts choking. “Hahaha, where’s this side of you coming from?”

“I’ve always thought of tying you down,” is confessed, voice small. “And then no matter where I went, which day it was, what time it is, you’d be stuck there, beside me.”

Daiki turns to look at him, a deep seated fire burning in red eyes, a sliver of fear that he normally felt with Akashi, now coursing through him.

“You wouldn’t survive…if I really had my way with you.”

Daiki gulps, liking his lips. “Is that so?”

Kagami still has not moved, sitting on the floor where Daiki had left him earlier, arm braced on the centre table on one side, a long limb aligning the sofa’s length on the other. Kagami looked calm and collected, but the fire in his eyes was just growing hotter.

“Do you still…want to feel my love?”

Daiki’s body twitched, nervous at the drop of his tone.

“…Because you won’t be able to leave ever again.”

He does not think. Discarding his coat, Daiki follows inside and there is a myriad of conflicting emotions swirling in his gut as Kagami’s eyes turn a different colour almost, and a smile Daiki has never seen, spreads small and slow, seizing his heart.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** I want to apologise, but at the same time, I don’t? Does that fly well with you guys? Hmm.


	42. From the Stock - VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **There’s exists a saying: “There is this child with this father”, but Daiki is under the impression that this is a farce.**  
>  [Double D.]

* * *

 

 

Kagami-san stifles a snorting laugh. “Idiot. I already know his name.”

Taiga cricks his neck, ire building, but held his mouth firmly shut. He glances away, across the coffee table and glares at the surface. Daiki is immediately stroking his nape, unaware of the stare he was receiving.

Kagami-san is probably where Taiga got his eating habits from; a large mountain looms high enough to create a shadow on Taiga, and Daiki—being him—would have laughed if he did not feel like his life-years were being shaved off by the second.

It is Taiga who really continues the conversation. “And? Now that you know this is the person I was talking about, what are you going to do?”

Daiki wonders if he should call an ambulance himself _since his boyfriend was being uselessly cruel to his heart_ , and fingers the device concealed in his pocket.

Elder Kagami is chewing his food thoughtfully, and gulping down the bolus of food, his eyebrows draw together as he says, “This is bad, Taiga.”

Daiki’s mouth dries. _This was it_.

The hand across his knees becomes heavier. The air feels more restrictive.

 “There’s someone out there who cooks this meal better than you!”

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** _“Kono chichi ni shite kono ko ari”_ is a saying in Japanese meaning "There is this child with this father” similar to “Like father, like son”. Haha, I’m sorry. OTL


	43. Inside the Tiger's Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Inside the Tiger’s Lair.**  
>  Continuation of “Tiger’s Lair”.

* * *

 

 

Daiki watched the smile creep up on Kagami’s face, the down-turned mouth slowly turning into a line before the edges flittered. The shivers racing up his spine to his neck, down his arms and into his fingers were electrifying, just like the red eyes watching his every move as he came closer.

As though becoming a theme, Kagami did not move from his spot between the coffee table and the sofa, staying still and steady, red glowing eyes hardly blinking. Daiki moved a few feet inside. The air temperature seemingly dropped around him even as the rush coursing through his veins and pooling into his stomach was a heavy heat anchoring him in place. Daiki would have denied Kagami’s stare doing the same, but his pride was forcing its ugly head above the surface of the pressure coating him.

Every muscle in his body was clenched, tight and stiff, and it was with a force to place one foot before the other until he was standing three feet in front of the redhead, pausing in the confusion of what he wanted to do now; Daiki was always leading, starting the flow that the other man went along with, so now he was a little disconcerted that there were no thoughts running through his head telling him what his next step was.

And that was when Kagami surged, like a great beast or a great tidal wave that rose above normal sea level and crashed against the shore, only this time around, the muscular arm snatched at his left wrist and brought Daiki down with him. Daiki floundered, gasping for air as his chest thudded heavily against Kagami, both from inside his ribcage and outside. The wrist in his captivity was twisted sharply behind him, hitched upwards, and only if he wanted to dislocate his shoulder, Daiki froze in his awkward position.

Breathing heavily, he asked quietly, unlike himself, “What are you going to do?”

Kagami leaned his head forward, placing smiling lips against his temple, trailing a few kisses sweetly against the skin there, going down to his cheek. The contrast of the affection on his face and the stronghold on his arm knotted his already twisted stomach. Daiki tried to calm his beating heart; he was not expecting this but he was not going to fight it either. Not yet, but not now, too.

The kisses lead to his ear, and with hot puffs of air, Kagami simply spoke, “What do you think I’m going to do, Aomine?”

Daiki let out a silent breath through parted lips, careful, and licking his lips to buy him some time, he ran his tongue across his upper teeth before lightly biting his lips. There was nothing he could do now, tugging ever so slightly at his arm to test the grip (and it did not budge a millimetre), he held any remaining air in his chest.

“Didn’t you already hand over your freedom to me?”

Daiki stilled.

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** So it appears like a stalking beast. The apparent continuation of “Tiger’s Lair”; I didn’t have enough time to flesh out more. My phone’s acting up, and I’m using someone else’s desktop to get this out. (It is so awkward…). Hope this appeases some.

 

 


	44. Outtake 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Outtake of KnB Chapter 189:**  
>  "Do you believe in fate?"  
> 

* * *

 

 

[AOMINE and MOMOI are at a café. The scene opens up where AOMINE surprises MOMOI with talks of ‘fate’ and MOMOI looks worriedly at AOMINE. Unperturbed, AOMINE continues chatting, almost sulking.]

**AOMINE:** If something like fate exists...the fact that he appeared before us—

**MOMOI:** …Hey. Is this going to take long?

**AOMINE:** [Sputters.] What? I was going on a great tangent here!

**MOMOI:** You know, I was thinking for a while now, but…aren’t you just infatuated? This puppy love of yours is detrimental to your growth. As if you haven’t already wasted so many days on lazing about, and now you’re going on about “fate this” and “fate that”? Next you’ll say something about how Kagamin is Tetsu-kun’s “true light” or some suc-

[MOMOI stops short to start at the fuddled expression on AOMINE's face.]

**MOMOI:** Dai-chan? Are you okay?

**AOMINE:** [Blushing.] But isn’t it like that?! [Sniffles.] Isn’t it fate that Tetsu left me for Kagami and now Kagami is like… he really is the true light, damnit!

**MOMOI:** [Baffled.] …Just how much are you hung about this, Dai-chan?!

 

 

* * *

  **Author’s Note:** I’m sorry I ruined this…I just thought Aomine should have been sulking at this point, secretly that is. ( ~~I just love picking on him!!!~~ )

AoKaga Month Prompt: Fate


	45. Unattended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **He always felt he was dating a child.**  
>  [Double D.]

* * *

 

 

“Do not leave your children unattended,” the voice over the PA system sounded above his head, bringing him into the here-and-now. Taiga looked over at the parents pulling their children along, smiles on their faces, handing them treats they had just bought from the confectionery stand a few feet away.

A few seconds later, a “Sorry,” breathed out as Aomine made his way through the parting crowd; just one look at his scowling face made people part like the Red Sea; and he sighed, coming to a full stop before Taiga.

Taiga let a small smile filter through. He thrust the pack of assorted sweets he had bought while waiting, and Aomine took them, a delighted smile on his face.

“Oh! The limited edition!” Flicking mirthful eyes at him, he smirked, “Thank you, Taiga-chan.”

“C’mon, loser,” he beckoned with his head, but still reached out and grabbed Aomine’s hand, interlacing their fingers. The smile on his lips stretched more when the hand he held tightened his hold. a distant reminder followed their heels, merrily, “Do not leave your children unattended.”

Taiga was just glad Aomine was simple-minded in these little things; he would never hear the end of it otherwise.

 

 

* * *

 

 


	46. Hidden From the World of Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **They just are, today.**  
>  105 Words _[Oh would you look at that. ^.^]_  
> 

* * *

 

 

With the covers over their heads, blocking out the setting sun’s dim rays from touching their bare skin, they do not cuddle as they are meshed together; one hand does not belong to one person, nor does one leg belong to the other.

There is no beginning, and no end. They just are, hidden, silent; even their breaths are respecting their wishes for this to be soundless.

Then, chuckling into heated skin, one says, “It feels like you’re all mine.”

The other laughs, “Stupid, I am all yours.”

They remain, together, hidden from the moon’s white light, from all sight, only to remain each other’s.

 

* * *

 


	47. From the Stock - VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Each moment that passes, Daiki learns something new.**  
>  [Double D.]

* * *

 

 

Daiki stops himself from braining Kagami-san but maybe for the same reason, Taiga’s leg does not stop kicking the elder’s foot.

“Oyaji!” Taiga roars. “Be serious for once!”

Daiki pales at the thought of what would happen if he does go serious.

“But I am? Who cooked this? It tastes good!” Kagami-san continues to shovel food much similar to Taiga, which makes said son manic.

“I just indirectly confirmed that I am gay! Does that not bother you?!”

“Eh?” Kagami-san suppresses a burp unsuccessfully. “Do you want it to bother me?”

Daiki clenched Taiga’s nape unconsciously. “Well, no.”

“Then there you have it,” he replies. “But…” Daiki seriously hated every moment this man was opening and closing his big mouth. “…you could have been kinder, you know. To her.”

“What are you talking about?” Taiga mumbles, looking away. “There’s only so much I can  _be kind_.”

It strikes Daiki that they are probably talking about Taiga’s mother. Curious, he stays alert, and watches as Kagami-san frowns.

“She must be rolling in her grave right about now.” The words were said casually but their meaning did not escape his heightened attention.

And Daiki has never felt so shattered in his life.

 

 

* * *

 


	48. Dead Balls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **As players, there were always two sides of the coin.**

* * *

 

 

It might have just been the last practice match before the Regionals semi-final started, but losing the game was a big blow to the ego of their new pitcher. Aomine watched, not knowing what to do when Kagami mopped around the bullpen, waiting for him to arrive. Tired as they were, none of the players went back to their dorms, opting to make use of whatever light was available to train, mourning their loss silently and dedicatedly.

Aomine had wanted to scowl and pitch a fit when errors in fielding stacked up, making the redhead pitcher nervous as he was made to throw one inside pitch after another, and then, disaster struck. With a fierce and powerful shuuto, Kagami threw a dead ball. And then some more.

As it turned out, Kagami was not impervious to hitting players and shrugging it off, Aomine almost wishing he could take a leaf from his book and be done with it, but as he looks upon the hunched back of the junior, he frets.

Sighing loudly to gain attention, Aomine walks up to the fidgeting boy and places an arm around his shoulders, bringing him for a brief one-arm hug. “You gotta let these things slide or you won’t be able to play anymore.” Kagami gulps, turning paler, and Aomine figures he has helped the boy dig his grave more. So he tries another tactic; “How are you supposed to be the best in the world if you don’t play?” And Kagami eases, slowly, but enough for Aomine to move on.

Just as he makes his way to the other side of the bullpen to squat, Kagami’s gruff voice calls out to him. “Than-k you…Aomine-senpai,” he stammers, self-conscious, a blush rising up his cheeks. Aomine chuckles at the cute sight but does not call him on it; he’s had enough of the pitcher’s dead balls.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Notes:** Shuuto (or rather Shootball): Pitched most commonly by Japanese players, and results in the fastball ending in a tail parallel to the pitcher. [If the pitcher is aiming for batters in the right box, the ball breaks towards them; if done to left batters, the ball moves away.]

AoKaga Month Prompts: Summer + Loss.


	49. It Said To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Daiki should probably either buy him an Organiser or get his stupid club members to buy one for him.**  
> 

* * *

 

 

Aomine came to tag out of the game, smacking Taiga's raised hand. He pulled up the top of his shirt and wiped the sweat gathering on his face, the weather not showing any sign of cooling down yet. Someone threw a bottle that had already turned lukewarm in the late morning heat but he did not complain, gulping sweet water in mouthfuls before dousing his head with some of the water. He pulled off his shirt, water droplets trailing down the back of his nape and in between his shoulders. One of the Seirin club members Daiki did not know the name of, handed him his towel, a deep maroon with a white inline, and he used it to vigorously rub his head. Turning to face the goodwill game, he grumpily watched until the set was over.

As Taiga tagged himself out a few seconds before the quarter ended, Daiki already had a bottle and a towel ready for the redhead.

 A quirky smile was sent his way, "Thanks!"

Daiki did not respond, and Taiga realised the other was still mad at him. With one eye on Daiki pulling on a clean light blue tank, he gulped down as much of the warm water as possible. Whoever used up all the ice in the previous game was going to face his fist later on; for now he kept his attention on the dark bunched up muscles in Daiki’s arms.

“Hey,” he called out, trying to keep the smile on, “Wanna go for a walk to find a cooler place? We can get something to drink, too,” he suggested, shaking the warm bottle for emphasis just as the halftime whistle was blown. Others from the game were sighing and cursing the heat, but Taiga’s too warm stare made Daiki feel even stickier than he was sometime back.

Grudgingly, Daiki turned and led the way, Taiga following half a beat later, distinctly aware of the stares at their receding backs. He had half a mind to glower over at them, but the slouched shoulders just shy of his reach was more important.

They travelled in distance for a while, steps large despite the saunter, and a cold current passing through despite the heat. They were all in his head but they were still very much present. Taiga reached over with his hand, brushing the knuckles of the other. As the hand twitched away from him, Taiga sighed.

“Dai—”

“Shut up,” Daiki muttered sourly, pocketing his hands even though they were too hot to be confined at the moment. He glared balefully up at the clear skies, wishing at least for clouds to take away the intense battering of the sun’s rays. His head was already burning, and rivulets of sweat drenched the tank he wore, changing the colour from a light blue to a dark sky blue. He could tell Taiga was still there, hesitating to speak in a way that will not get them _angrier_ at each other, which was why the awkward and stunted silence between hurt more than he could think of.

“Daik—”

But Daiki would give the stubbornness of Taiga some credit; the redhead surely knew how to break down his defences by repeatedly poking at it.

“I said give it a rest already.”

“Not until you talk to me,” Taiga countered, and this time, he forcefully ground Daiki to a halt by grabbing his wrist. Where their skin met, Daiki burned under the additional heat, wrenching his arm away with more force than was really required. It stood to reason then, that since Taiga refused to let go of the anticipant movement, Daiki floundered on his own and nearly toppled to his face. Holding him steady, Taiga braced him with his other arm and stepped into his personal bubble.

Daiki was already feeling violated—both mentally and physically—so the scowl lines on his face mapped out exactly how angry he was to be stuck in this situation.

“Daiki, c’mon.” Taiga tugged at his arm. “I’m sorry I forgot all about yesterday. My mind was kinda preoccupied with today’s goodwill game.”

“It would have been fine it you could even call this a game,” Daiki groused, unhappy, turning to face away from pleading eyes, “But it’s far from that. People are just being tagged out left, right and centre, and you can’t even enjoy a full game.”

Taiga remained silent for hardly a second before he murmured, “it’s far from that. People are just being tagged out left, right and centre, and you can’t even enjoy a full game.”

Taiga remained silent for hardly a second before he murmured, “You’re just angry that we couldn’t play a quarter together.”

Daiki defiantly fixed his glare at one spot, 180° from where Taiga was shuffling on his feet.

Taiga did feel bad about the previous day, though. Many times, he would forget about plans unless someone reminded him on the day, and Daiki not even sending him derogatory reminders not to stand him up at the park led to Taiga being too engrossed in the sandwiches he was preparing for the ragtag team of basketball players roped into the charity goodwill game that was currently being held in the sports grounds. It was a good occasion, and Taiga would have never said ‘No’ when Kasamatsu-san had asked (via Kise), but Daiki being stood up…that was a whole other ball game.

As Daiki once again pulled out of Taiga’s grip, it was just reaffirming what he already knew; Taiga never met another person who held a grudge as well as the other did.

All day he had been trying to apologise and make amends, but one thing led to another and invariably they would start fighting. When Daiki had tagged out as Taiga tagged in, he was a little bit surprised the taller male was willing to even come in contact with him. It made him hope a bit more when he was served the bottle and towel, but the idiot did an about-turn just right after.

Diaki confused Taiga so much, he was surprised he was not already hoisting him up by the collar and pounding the shit out of him. Frustrated, he balled up his hands and quickly shoved them into his own pockets, one tight fist’s knuckles grazing something plastic in them. Startled at finding anything in his pockets, he felt around the sharp edges and pulled it out.

The innocently white packet encasing a hard candied pink heart stared at him, and Taiga almost chucked it to the floor when he remembered Daiki liked berry flavoured items, so maybe some strawberry would get him to at least talk.

Wordlessly, he poked the boy on the arm, and when he was swatted away, he quickly grabbed the hand and placed the candy packet in it.

Daiki took too long to stare at it.

Looking up, a wry tone asked, “Do you think I’ll forgive you because of this?”

Taiga bristled, “heck no. but at least you’re talking to me now.”

Daiki scoffed, turning away again, missing the hurt expression passing over Taiga’s face. Taiga himself was annoyed that nothing he could do or say could change his mood, so he remained, blistering within.

Daiki glanced at the little packet, curious despite himself, so he turned it around. What was stylised on the back made him smirk, so he ripped open the packet, popped the decidedly too sweet confectionery and turned around to stare at the dejectedly bowed redhead. Taking a deep breath, he moved closer.

Taiga was a little rattled when Daiki placed a hand behind his nape, forcing him to look up straight at his face, wondering if he would get socked a pretty one. Almost preparing himself to do just as much damage—Taiga will not take domestic violence from the other idiot—before Daiki raised the other arm and pulled Taiga into a full bodied hug.

“Wha—?”

Daiki chuckled, warm moist puffs hitting Taiga’s neck, sending tingles down his spine. He shivered, clutching the warm and sweaty body closer, and felt Daiki do the same.

“The candy told me to.”

Taiga froze. “Huh?”

“The candy,” Daiki repeated like he could not be bothered. “It told me to hug you.”

Taiga curled his fingers into the light-blue-turning-dark-blue tank Daiki wore, hesitant. “Does this mean…you forgive me?”

“Heck no,” he replied instantly, causing Taiga to bite back a curse and groan. “it said hug, not ‘Forgive Me’.”

Frowning, he asked, “So if it said ‘Kiss Me’ you would have kissed me?” Taiga knew Daiki was still standoffish on that front, but it was as legitimate as questions went.

There was a certain stillness to Daiki, as though he was holding his breath, before warm lips grazed his pulsing vein—and Taiga swears he could almost feel the outline of every bump and crack on his neck—saying, “Well, who knows? I didn’t get a candy that asked me to do that, now did I?”

And stifling a choking breath, Taiga growled low in his ear, “Then just wait for a fucking moment and I’ll get you that candy.”

Daiki laughed after Taiga dislodged himself, running quickly to where he knows he saw a 24/7 mart around, calling out loudly, “Don’t forget to buy some cold water!”

Taiga waved haphazardly, something besides the heat already occupying his mind.

 

 

* * *

 **Author's Note:**  I know you get those sweetheart candies with those messages on them—not in my country though ;_; —so I decided to use what I had on hand (literally).  **Hence, it was as clichéd as it gets.**

AoKaga Month Prompt: Candy.


	50. First Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Daiki's breath is in danger.**  
> 

* * *

 

 

In the end, Daiki cannot tell if what he tasted was Taiga’s mouth or the saccharine sweetness of the hard heart candy once they moved to the shade of a forgotten tree near the vast empty tennis courts—the furthest place from the basketball ones—but he was sure that he would never forget the day Taiga almost stole his breath away.

When the redhead had returned triumphantly with the large packet, Daiki had laughed, promptly regretting it when Taiga brandished a few ‘Kiss Me’ sweets in their little innocuous packets. He did not know how he did it, but one-handed (or rather three-fingered), Taiga opened one sweet and popped it in his mouth, coming closer with an unnerving grin on his face. And just because he could, Daiki placed a strong palm against the entreating teenager, holding him at bay.

“You loser,” he admonished. “It defeats the purpose if you eat it, right? Shouldn’t you be giving it to me?!”

Though said calmly, his heart was beating wildly. This was a huge step in their relationship and he did not know if he was ready to overcome the hurdle that was sucking face with Kagami Taiga, probably the first and only rival he will ever meet in this life. On one hand Daiki wanted to throw caution to the wind and just jump Taiga, but another part of him was anxious—suppose he sucked at sucking face, then what?

Contrary to popular belief, Daiki was as virtuous as a male could be if one did not count the numerous failed and successful ejaculations via masturbation. He could stand in for the Virgin Mother if he so wished; that was how pure he was. Flicking his eyes at the suddenly deflating semi-boyfriend of his (what did one call a partner you never went even to first base with?), Daiki assuaged his corrections to his mental state; Taiga looked to cute for a lumbering idiot to pass off.

“Gimme that,” he regulated his snarl, grabbing hastily at the candy packet and rifling through the slapdash opening, easily picking out the ‘Kiss Me’. In his haste, Daiki was sure he bit into the candy rather than keeping it in his mouth unharmed. He reached forward a second later than he wanted to, grabbing Taiga by the collar of his black muscle-T, and pulled.

Taiga, the smart-aleck, was already tilting his head for a better position, smoothly _like the motherfucker that he is_ assuming a lip lock with the partially unprepared Daiki. As most of their unordered relationship went, the tongue poked at his lips, slipping past them to lick sensually at the ridge between them and his gums. It was an awkward feeling, something moving in the front of his teeth, making Daiki jerk backwards. Taiga’s arm draped across his shoulders held him in place, to which Daiki twitched and moaned at.

As though taking it as a sign to continue, Taiga tilted even further, pushing in, making Daiki gasp at the movement, effectively forcing his mouth to open. A moving appendage that could only be Taiga’s tongue at this point, invaded Daiki’s mouth and literally did some kind of aggressive dance move that repulsed Daiki enough to bite it down, almost choking on the sweet still in his mouth.

Taiga jerked away, suffering whiplash Daiki hoped, a swear almost on the redhead’s tongue as he wiped away at the saliva trailing his chin. Whatever he wanted to say though, was mentally brushed aside.

“What?” Daiki asked, embarrassed. His voice sounded harsh and admonishing even to him, but Taiga shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips before he grinned hard.

Daiki did not like that look one bit.

“You’re surprisingly cute,” Taiga decided to spoil the mood. Daiki frowned, pushing him away. “hey, the sweet’s not done yet, right? Let’s continue!”

The other’s enthusiasm was quickly dealt with; Daiki crunched into the heart quickly, easily, and efficiently, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue to show Taiga the proof of his minute labour. “What sweet?”

Growling in both frustration and anger, Taiga charged, arms aiming for Daiki’s neck, probably. Daiki did not wait to find out—he ran like hell.

 

 

* * *

**Author's Note:** I usually default with Kagami teaching Aomine a lesson, but then I was like, "Hm, Aomine is smart (or so the bonus sections in the games show), so why not turn the tables a bit?" ~~Yes, yes, this Author's an idiot, too.~~

AoKaga Month Prompt: Candy (continuation).

 


	51. From the Stock - IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Of the many sides he knows Taiga is capable of, Daiki searches for the warmth he loves the best.**  
>  [Triple D.]

* * *

 

 

Taiga had a foul look on his face.

Daiki cannot place it, but the look is different from what he expected after Kagami-san’s crass words, almost wanting to get into the man’s face himself and dig into him for Taiga’s sake. Daiki knows it is not his place but anyone who makes Taiga anything but carefree and happy does not deserve his civility and kindness. He is almost going to rip Kagami-san a new one when Taiga’s mouth opens.

What stumbles out of his mouth, though, is just as unexpected.

“Grandma’s probably being rolling in her grave since you came out, and stopped when I told her about Daiki. Now unless you have anything in terms of chastising me,” Daiki is both amazed and baffled to the big words Taiga uses, “don’t make him confused.”

Kagami-san stares seriously at Daiki, then glances down at Taiga.

“I told you, I’m not bothered by it.” He looks away. “You’ve always been able to take care of yourself without us. All you really need from us is money.”

There is almost a bitter note to his words but the mere fact that Taiga does not dispute it makes Daiki cold. He unconsciously clutches at the arm over his legs, seeking the warmth he always feels from Taiga, but shudders when there is nothing. It seemed Kagami-san brought out the worse sides of his boyfriend, sides he has never seen before.

Kagami-san sighs, large and loud in the quietening room. “Oh well, that’s enough from me.” Taiga scowls. “I’m going to take a nap before your mother decides to show her face.”

With a petulant pout, Taiga mumbles barely loud enough for Daiki to hear, “I don’t think she wants anything to do with _a son like me_.”

This time, Kagami-san grinds his teeth.

 

 

* * *

 


	52. Second Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Thanks to Daiki, he has learned something infinitely beneficial.**  
>  Moderately NSFW.  
>  _I don't even know what that "moderately" really means!!_  
> 

* * *

 

 

Daiki hesitated from answering the phone, a little worried that those who were known to be friends just hours prior were now enemies he had to hide from. He did not think there would be a day when the innocent and war-hating Kuroko Tetsuya would gather a makeshift army against him.

And all because of that prick, Kagami Taiga.

If Taiga had not charged at him immediately yesterday, out for his neck, Daiki would not have run for shelter in places no one—not even Satsuki—knew about. Somewhere close to dinner time, he had managed to make his way home and pleaded with his mother not to inform his childhood friend considering the hate mail he received from not only Tetsu and Taiga, but even her. Where had all those long summer days where they promised each other the world and some more for protection and lover and servitude (Daiki assumes he got the short end of the stick here), for now he was running away from Satsuki’s wrath as well.

Huffing and puffing, Daiki turned into his bed and slept fitfully. Come morning and he will decide his next move.

 

* * *

 

Morning came abruptly.

Or Daiki would like to correct; Taiga pulled his sheets off abruptly, robbing him of the last sweet dregs of a dream he actually cannot recall a spec of. Not that Taiga needs to know as he bitches about it, since said redhead is staring down at him with an odd look about his face.

“What?”

“...You’re…nude.”

Daiki glowered, shifting himself to make it look artfully decent to be butt-naked in his own bed; he can if he wants to, and it is reasonable to shed layers of clothing when it is hot. And it was hot last night, he imagines.

“And, what of it?” The snapping in his tone is not lost to himself either, watching red eyes narrow and eyebrows join together at the nose bridge to look more like a soaring bird than the sections of hair Daiki thought were quite useless on the forehead.

“No, well,” Taiga hesitates to answer. Daiki does not know why, but if someone asked Taiga, he would say it was because Daiki looked perfectly edible, like a slab of well-defined chocolate; minus the gold foil and add the glaring eyes, and there it was, a chocolatier’s masterpiece. “Um, yea, just…get dressed.” Before now, Taiga would never have guessed that chocolate would have made him less eloquent than he already is, and so thanks to Daiki, he has learned something infinitely beneficial.

Daiki fumes silently. He slips off the bed from the other side, keeping his distance from the boyfriend (or whatever he was, honestly) that he had run away after barely making the step into the sexual nature of their relationship. He is, honestly, surprised that Taiga was not continuing yesterday’s plight, keeping his thick arms carefully on his hips, staring at him in such a peculiar way, Daiki had to turn away. He resorted to pretend to look for his clothes, bending at his waist to rifle through the laundry he had dumped off his bed when he arrived late last night, unaware of the sight he was waving at Taiga.

Taiga (bless the teenager’s poor soul) was fighting with everything he had not to grab those perfectly shaped globes that reflected what little light passed through Daiki’s curtains, catching Taiga’s sight even when he tried to turn to stare at the basketball poster smoothed out on the wall adjacent to Daiki’s bed. Every time his eyes moved away, they would slowly—like a pendulum in motion—swing back to emboss the image inside his eyelids then swing away at the poster he has yet to really identify.

Daiki thankfully turns, pulling up a clean pair of boxer briefs that just make it worse for Taiga to concentrate, so he digs into his hips almost painfully to distract himself from the distracting male.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” Taiga blurts out with no filter whatsoever, only marginally glad that his mouth failed before it vomited out the ‘ _I’ve come to pound that tight ass of yours since it looks like it deserves a nice beating_ ’. He is certainly sure that would not bode well for their relationship since Daiki bit his tongue, pushing him away and then ran _like that tight ass of his was on fire_ away from Taiga.

Not bode well at all.

“Come to suffocate me into my pillow?”

The thoughts running through his head made Taiga nod, hands itching to follow through, but his mouth appeared to be little keener than his brain, saying, “I came to talk.” When Daiki did not look like he was going to start another marathon, he continued, “You kind of left before we could really sort things.”

Daiki frowns, and the distinct lack of dust trails means that Taiga can continue; he just wishes there were more clothes Daiki could find in himself to put on, because Taiga cannot string a sentence satisfactorily enough which does not contain the words _fuck_ and _you now_ and _in bed_.

“Did I take it too far?” He remembers his rehearsed speech from last night—maybe even this morning because he really did not sleep due to agitation that he went too far—but all that comes out of his disobedient mouth is, “Can I touch you?”

The red bloom of colour on dark skin is the only thing Taiga is aware of before his survival skills kick in and he ducks. A lamp soars over his head. Daiki’s mother—who was so kind to let him in—calls out a few minutes later: “Dai-chan are you okay? Did anyone get hurt?”

Daiki grunts, startled at the voice, before he shouts out, “We’re fine! Sorry for the noise!”

Taiga in the meantime glances over his shoulder at the pieces on the floor, gulps, then turns to see Daiki’s full wrath upon him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He asks, and Taiga is a little confused; since when was Daiki a shy maiden that Taiga had to sensor his thoughts and words. “Is that honestly what you’re thinking right about now?” Daiki demanded.

Wetting his throat a bit, Taiga croaks out, “Yea, I am.” He does not need to lie. _Right?_

Daiki’s silence is scary because Taiga thinks he has blown a tentative relationship in which he saw so much potential in is animalistic, barbaric, uncivilised way.

Then Daiki opens his mouth—really, he knows what a fine mouth it is _capable_ of being—and mumbles out, “I don’t know why you want to touch me.”

“Eh?”

“…I’m just a guy. I have nothing that you could possibly be really interested in,” Daiki shrugs, opting to turn away from the stupidity shooting at him through Taiga’s agape stance, holding in the laughter bubbling in his chest. If he was to milk the situation, manage to pass the redhead and get out of his room, he could well be on his way to freedom; he just knows Taiga’s out for revenge.

The raw, almost needy whine accompanying the words “But you’re not just any guy, Aho, you’re Aomine Daiki, my fucking boyfriend”, and while they were far from sugary sweet, they were the Kagami-brand honest.

Daiki sucked in a breath, feeling ashamed for thinking the other was out to hurt him for yesterday.

“…Okay.”

Taiga literally perked up at that, eyes going round in excitement, sparkles shooting out of his being like some divine persona come to bless the horrible out of Daiki. Taiga did not wait past seeing Daiki place his arms stiffly to his side—there was still the reflex of wanting to sock Taiga so that he could protect himself—and instead of walking around the bed, he got onto his knees and traversed the distance in two knee-steps.

Now face-to-face with those shining red eyes, Daiki gulped.

Warm hands made him shiver in shock as they came to delicately and gently rest on his hips, under his arms, pulling him closer. Shins bumping against his low-set bed, Daiki’s now seemingly underdressed body was pressed flush against Taiga’s overdressed on. The sensation was awkward, tingly and scratchy all at the same time, but Daiki did not move; Taiga was already kissing him.

Moving to First Base, meant that Taiga could initiate a kiss whenever he pleased—and not that it was a bad thing, but Daiki hated that he had yet to be able to control the kiss or even lead it—and just like before, he _patiently_ asked for leeway by probing his lips and trailing his tongue across gums and teeth and the space that was slowly opening up between both rows of teeth. Taiga grinned into the kiss, tilting his head to get his tongue firmly in first, then slowly started to kiss the unmoving Daiki.

In turn, however, Daiki’s stiff arms moved on their own above their chests to wrap around Taiga’s neck, forcing him backwards a bit because his own neck was being pulled at an odd angle. As the redhead moved back to accommodate the position, Daiki found himself raising a foot to kneel on the side of the bed, and the front of their hips touched.

An electric shock travelled through both of them.

Taiga moaned softly into the kiss, his hands gripping the bony hips tighter, fingers poking into the soft flexible muscle forming most of Daiki’s body. He trailed little circles where his fingers remained, easing Daiki to come further on the bed, which the other teen did. Shaking, timid hands sneaked perchance to Taiga’s torso.

Breaking out of the kiss, Taiga licks his lips and looks at the blushing face of an out-of-breath Daiki. Daiki adverts his eyes to the side, though the hands on his body enforces that Daiki is not adverse to touching him, too. Taiga bonks his forehead softly against Daiki’s temple, retrieving his attention, a quirky smile filtering through.

“Hey,” he says.

Daiki frowns, skin still heated. “Hey.”

Taiga likes the breathless state of Daiki, but he also likes how cool nimble fingers have found their niche under his t-shirt, lightly stroking the skin it happened upon. Taiga gears towards Daiki again, kissing his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw, and as he went down his neck, his hands secured their place on Daiki’s firm buttocks, squeezing experimentally when their owner did not gut and ball him for it.

Feeling like he scored huge, Taiga nipped into his neck, laving the mark over with spit and grinned into the breastbone, beyond happy with himself. Beyond the cut-off he thought would take ages to see from when they first started ‘dating’.

“Hey,” Daiki called to him in that breathless stupor he had going this morning.

Taiga tucked his chin as he turned, glancing up from the angle he was enjoying.

“You’ve got two seconds before I mow you down,” he says, and a bit confused, Taiga reels his head to look at the squinting dark blue eyes and quirked eyebrows, “Get your hands off of me.”

The look and the tone of his voice was so different from the hands playing at his waist; bewildered as he was, Taiga took a stand.

“Nope.”

“Don’t ‘nope’ me!” Using extreme force, Daiki dug his fingers into Taiga’s hips, shaking his arms as though he wanted to implant the thin appendages into him, “You asked to touch me and you did! Now you’re fucking _groping my ass!!_ ”

Taiga frowned. “If I ask will you let me continue?”

“No!”

“Dai-chan?” his mother’s voice called from downstairs, “Is everything alright? You’re scaring me with these spurts of loud voices from up there!”

Taiga grinned at the stiffening of Daiki’s body. Leaning into his ear, he teased, “How about I stay here for some more time and get your body started for the day? See how stiff you’ve become?”

In the end, Daiki’s mother had to come up to stand arms akimbo over the wrestling boys on the floor of Daiki’s room; said boy was unimaginably embarrassed to be caught in his underwear sitting on the stomach of a viciously struggling redhead, whose—in all things unholy and unfair—side his mother took.

“Daiki you ruffian!” she said with a finger wagging admonishingly at him. “I didn’t raise you to be like this!”

“We you didn’t raise me to be a girl, either!” He cried, and Taiga laughed despite the red hue covering his cheeks.

Daiki’s mother huffed, turning away, muttering something about ‘Boys’, leaving Daiki glaring at Taiga.

“You fuck,” he started to say, but Taiga—who knew the kid was like this before they dated? Daiki felt utterly cheated—grinned wide and large.

“No, that’s fourth base; I’m still getting used to getting into second, you see?” And promptly makes do with groping the firm ass on his abdomen. Daiki’s growl turned into quiet groans, but he will never admit that it felt good sitting on Taiga and being felt up, no matter how good it was.

Taiga already had too big of an ego, it seemed.

 

 

* * *

  **Author's Note:** Eh...yea. Okay. I apologise. *hangs head in shame*. Continues from "First Base". 

AoKaga Month Prompt: Hands.


	53. Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **It is decidedly very easy to control jealousy.**  
>  Introducing: _Tōō Gakuen Basketball Members._  
> 

* * *

 

 

Taiga watches, disconcerted, as across from him, Aomine is teasing the Apologising Mushroom from his team. A heavy disgusting feeling is settling like a boulder inside his intestine, already done making a large hole in his stomach. His hands are gripping the abandoned basketball after the game ended, and now, he is almost smoothening out the tacky ridges of the outdoor ball they had been using, his dull nails catching on the rims.

“Ryō, don’t make me bend ya and spank ya,” Aomine is crude, manhandling the shooting guard who is looking even more distressed. From across the court, their eyes catch and there is a particular awkwardness on the other teen’s face that does not escape Taiga’s attention.

Sakurai ducks his head away from his glare, making the arm around his neck tighten and enclose him further into Aomine’s lithe body. This just makes Taiga feel worse, and his body wants to spring up and launch the ball in his hand at the sorry face of the other teenager.

Instead he palms the ball more, twirling the object, heating up the cold palms, before he gets up anyway. Stalking to the court centre, he starts to dribble lightly, eyes forced to watch his front rather than the grousing of the Tōō players, Aomine’s happy grin not leaving his mind’s eye. Taiga starts then, ferociously flying down the lane and slamming the basketball into the hoop, the noise of each thud, the slam and the backboard echoing in the conspicuously silent street court they occupied.

Dark hooded blue eyes glanced at Taiga, but he was already skulking towards the ball rolling away, smacking the surface to make it bounce up. He started to dribble, concentrating on each finger and the pressure he was exerting as he pushing against the rising bounce of the ball.

“Sour about losing?” Aomine’s voice called out.

Taiga’s eyes shifted to the side, still with the ball otherwise, and went into another dunk.

Aomine’s confident smirk stretched into a leer so dangerous, even his forehead was conniving with his other facial features. “Aww, that’s such bad sportsmanship.”

Taiga scoffed, uncaring, heading for the ball again.

This time, Aomine beat him to it, and twirling it on his middle finger facing it towards Taiga, he demanded, “I’ll play you a game, c’mon.”

“I don’t get anything out of it, so no,” he denied, reaching out for the ball.

Aomine moved away. “First one to lose,” the unusual wording made Taiga pause, “treats the other to some good food.”

Taiga smirked, “You’re on!” And he surged forward as soon as they did the check, his hands appearing longer and wider than they really were, grabbing possession of the ball. Aomine scowled at his forfeit, following him with his hand outstretched. Taiga, though, as he passed the staggering Tōō members, glared triumphantly at Sakurai before he laid the basketball into the hoop, roaring as he did so.

Sakurai fisted the material over his chest, looking pained and uncomfortable, and he murmured, “He’s been glaring at me for a while now…”

Imayoshi chuckled, sunlight glinting off his glasses. “He would now, wouldn’t he?” Then turning to the rest of his kohai, he called for a dismissal, soon watching as they left. Susa got into step with him as they left. “Who would have guessed he was so possessive?”

“I actually thought Aomine would be hard to deal with,” Susa confessed. “Just goes to show that those Seirin folk really are stubborn little shits.”

Imayoshi cackled more than laughed. “And our poor Aomine-chan. Falls for the trap every single time.”

_You’re not any different._ Susa kept his comment to himself, a pained smile on his face, walking after his friend and year-mate to the station. He thought they were all having too much fun setting Aomine and Kagami up.

 

 

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I'm guilty for all these Jealous!Kagami scenarios...but who can resist?! I ship KagaAo just as much as AoKaga. (And please, I love Sakurai's twisted personality just as much, so no, I am not bashing him here!)


	54. From the Stock - X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Taiga’s pride is not only in his name.**  
>  [Triple D.]

* * *

 

“What did she say?”

Taiga refuses to answer, going so far as to stand up and head to the kitchen, pulling out the red kettle Daiki had gotten him since it apparently matched his hair. He is pulling out three mugs, not bothered to ask if anyone wanted the brew he was about to make, leaving Daiki with a silently seething Kagami-san.

“Taiga!” The man snapped, “What did she say?!”

“Nothing she doesn’t already say,” is the answer. The words ring hollow and degrees colder than a being as warm and bright like Taiga should be using, and Daiki almost wants to light a fire to get his redhead back.

Kagami-san sighs, dropping the plate with a thud on the coffee table. Daiki watches as he heads over to Taiga, the man larger than his boyfriend in both shoulder width and height. Since Taiga is still growing, it is possible he will outgrow the elder Kagami completely. For now, though, he towers over the frail back of a son whose mother dismisses him entirely. Daiki hates that he is learning this so late, but even though he now knows better, there is virtually nothing besides being there for the younger redhead that he can do for him.

“Why did you even open your mouth, Taiga? You know what she’s like,” Kagami-san is both mollifying and scolding.

Taiga brushes the concern brusquely.

“I’m not going to hide Daiki,” is all he says instead. The pride in his voice is in magnitudes to his pride in being able to (sometimes) beat Daiki in basketball. Magnitudes to the strokes in Taiga’s name.

Daiki basks in the pride like a second skin, wearing it and breathing in the words spoken with neigh a tremor.

“There’s nothing she can say that will hurt me now.”

 

 

* * *

 


	55. Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **He returns to see the first steps of recovery.**

* * *

 

 

He arrives to a cool and dark home. The idea itself is confusing, and as he removes his shoes and calls out the customary greeting, his voice does not echo as he thought it would. The light fluttering of the curtains drawn open across the balcony windows answers unvoiced question. With a smile gently lifting the corners of his downturned lips, Taiga crosses the distance quickly enough. Popping his head outside, he sees the curled form of Daiki on the stool he dragged from the kitchen. The congested feeling in his chest eases out instantly at the sight.

Not wanting to ruin it, he would prefer to keep silent, but the niggling feeling at the back of his head says otherwise.

“I keep telling you to get the deck chair out instead,” Taiga complains, fingers of his right hand curling into the other man’s nape and leaning to kiss the left temple closest to him. A soft murmur is his only response. “Hey now, I know it’s hot, but at least do something about the light.”

As he turned to put on the balcony lights, a tight grip on his wrist halted his movements.

“It’s spoiling the view.”

Taiga looked back at Daiki.

“Get off the stool then.” Huffing, the man did as requested, slumping against the ceiling-to-floor glass doors, kicking the stool to the side for leg space. It takes Taiga not even a second to plop right beside him, pushing at Daiki a bit so that he was spooning the dark skinned male. “Your skin’s cold,” he commented, resting his lips on an exposed shoulder, right cheek feeling the wife beater’s strap.

“And you’re hot as usual,” Daiki says.

They sit, in each other’s arms, not moving more than it required for breathing, and they sat unspeaking, not needing words to convey their connection. There was just no need to be doing anything.

The expansive dark blue sky was littered with sparse starlight. The moon was absent on this glorious night, allowing the couple to gaze uninterrupted from its bright presence. Taiga did not know much about the constellations—he knew Daiki knew some of them, or at least those that interested him—but staring up at the sky and thinking about permutations and combinations was not his idea of relaxing, so he blindly stared and took what he got from the scene.

Daiki, in his arms, had started to hum unintelligently. It did not break the peaceful state; each pronounced hum sent a vibration against his chest from Daiki’s back, and the sensation was lullaby-effective. His eyelids drooped, once, twice, and soon his forehead was resting where his lips were until a few seconds ago.

Still humming, Daiki turns in his arms, and he lets him, now being the one held. A sharp chin rests above the crown of his head, the pleasing deep basal sounds reverberating in his skull. Taiga almost mimicked the noise too, before he caught himself with a large yawn.

“We should get a hammock,” Daiki chuckles out.

Taiga laughs in a breathy way, less sound and more air. Another yawn joins the other. “No way,” he says, burrowing under the chin when he felt the cold front of the summer night wind. It was pleasant but still uncomfortably different to the hot mornings and warm evenings; Taiga did not even want to think about the sweltering afternoons. “You’ll insist on sleeping here even until winter.”

Daiki frowns, but knows that Taiga’s right. The light draping of his arms around Taiga keeps the chill at bay. He resumes his humming, though, and they both bask in the pleasant ambiance he creates just for them.

“…What happened today?” Taiga finally asks before the vestiges of wakefulness are smothered by more yawns and he goes down for the count.

“Nothing really,” Daiki answers because there was really nothing that caused him to be out here. Granted they usually did this indoors, but today… “It really was too nice to be stuck inside.”

“Hmm.” Taiga agreed.

“…I saw,” he continued, bringing Taiga closer to his body, “my reflection in the window as the sun came down and I didn’t like it.”

Taiga’s eyelids fluttered open.

“It was like…I was trapped in a glass and I couldn’t get out.” Daiki paused, remembering. “So I opened the window. That’s it.”

Sneaking his arms to wrap around Daiki’s scrunched waist, Taiga placed his head against a strong chest, listening to the steady _lub dub_ of the other’s heart, the security of hearing it resonating deeply in his mind. “Good,” he says. “You flew out of the cage.”

Daiki chuckles, for the first time looking down, but only getting red hair in his field of vision. He reaches out to push the hair aside, kissing the forehead and smoothing out the disgruntled furrow at the action with a finger. His numbing hands are instantly warmed when in contact with Taiga’s skin.

“Yea, I did,” he looks away, at the darkening expansive sky before them, limitless and so far out of reach. His sight of the blank canvas is interrupted by the arm that shoots out and spreads its fingers. Daiki watches, intrigued, and the fingers curl into a soft, closed fist before tightening slowly.

“All that,” Taiga says, “Is for you to discover. So it’s good,” dark red eyes burn their gaze into him. Daiki looks back down and sees the partially reflected blue of the sky, “that you got out of that cage.”

Daiki does not respond. He drops his head and rests it near the redhead, breathing in time with Taiga. In this space and in this time, he does not need to respond because Taiga already knows what his answer is; Daiki had already stepped out, after all.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**  The  ** _elusive_**  idea of “What if he had some kind of panic attack/anxiety and wants to finally be free?” I don’t know how bad panic attacks  _feel_  (I’ve  _seen_  plenty in my lifetime, and have probably only suffered mild anxiety) but this is not about  _having an anxiety attack_ but more of a  _he has attacks and he doesn’t like this_ , so this is just me starting something that was sweet and simple, and then later morphed into something that needed more to blossom. Otherwise, it is purely conjecture. Honest.


	56. Wild Pitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Daiki is good at cornering batters but there is someone else who is good at cornering his heart.**  
> 

 

**Warning(s):** There might be some jargon going on here, but that’s not so important in the grand scheme of things. If you still want to know, hit me up and I’ll explain the best I can (you might seriously not need it, though…)

 

* * *

 

The pitch goes wild, a high arc over his squatting form, fast and heavy, and he remains there, mouth open and letting loose a startling sound, before his quick reflexes make him spring up and catch the ball. The umpire calls it what it is—“Ball two!”—and Daiki almost sighs with relief, watching the batter look superiorly lax and happy with himself. The minute he has lost all the tension in his body, he calls for a low inside pitch, to the batter’s chest, and the pitcher listens like the good kohai he is. The dull thud of the resounding catch echoes in the vast field, and Daiki has to force himself not to crow out with laughter.

“Strike!”

He signs again.

The batter bowls over the home plate, tense, and it is almost a shame that he is so obvious in his will to pull long ( _what is with this team filled with pull-hitters?!_ ) and Daiki allows for Kagami to throw a little outside the course.

The umpire is quick to decide, as usual, loud over his head. “Ball three!”

With a slight glance at the bench, he sees Kasamatsu-senpai pulling on his gloves, fixing his helmet on, and simultaneously kicking Kise into submission, and Daiki holds the feeling he is sure to get when Kagami raises his arm one last time for the inning, and true to his call, pitches it dead centre, right into his waiting mitt.

“Strike! Batter out!!” The umpire does a grand arm movement, but Daiki does not care; his eyes are staring at Kagami’s wide grin, the pumped up fist, the deep fiery hair in the sun unleashed by the cap he normally wore. The image is beautiful and unsettling all at one go, and Daiki turns his face away when the junior bends to pick up his baseball cap.

Kise is beaming at them as they come closer, but he is pushed by the second batter to move on and start warming up for his at-bat. Kagami jogs up to Daiki, obviously waiting for the praise he is due, and he returns the expectation with a smirk and smacks his ass. “Get ready to bat, Kagami. You need to pay attention to their pitcher; he has more control than you!” he laughs as the grin automatically drops into a scowl, and he remains laughing as he moves into the dugout. Kuroko is already there at his side, helping him unbuckle the vest, and he is almost surprised when Kagami comes to help too.

“I’m glad the signs worked,” Kuroko says, stacking the protectors on the bench. “I was almost certain Kagami-kun was throwing wild pitches there.”

“Hah!” Daiki slyly grins widely enough that he feels his face almost splitting into two. “He read them well and followed them too,” only belatedly realising that he did not want to praise him for the sole reason that when at-bat, Kagami usually gets struck out. “We should probably add more ‘ _throw wild pitch this side’_ signs. My leg’s getting numb from only running to the right.” He shakes it out, and Kagami watches him, concerned.

Thankfully though, Kasamatsu is calling out to the redhead to hurry up and queue behind him because he is going to clear the bases; he needs Kagami to allow him a base run if not to come home. Kise sulks back into the dugout while Kagami is beaming—the trust the captain places in him is heavy and stifling, but the lightness in the smile says all—and Daiki cannot take his eyes off Kagami again.

“You’ve been staring at him awfully a lot, senpai,” Kuroko’s unassuming voice cuts into his thoughts. Daiki snaps his head towards the shorter boy and snarls out.

“You’re noisy! That’s not true!!” He stomps away, grabbing his bat on the way out. It does not help that he can feel the knowing gaze on his back, and he is sandwiched from the front by the theming-with-energy redheaded kohai, that it takes him a while to realise that Kasamatsu is already in the batter’s box with the count against him. He is almost a second away from encouraging his captain—the last time he got kicked for being too lazy to do so—when Kasamatsu pulls hard to the left. They all watch with bated breath as the ball cuts through the diamond and nears the shortstop. Daiki is sure he is not the only one with a mantra in his head, and elated, he watches the ball squeeze through the shortstop by a few inches and speeds to the ground to race along the fair line. Kasamatsu is already off, quick on his feet as usual, and is turning to the second base. Moriyama is nearing home.

Daiki is distracted, surprisingly, when the loud _whoop_ from in front of him sounds, and he takes in the victory pose Kagami is so easy to dish out to Moriyama as he dusts himself off the dirt, walking towards them with his head held high.

“Did anyone notice the absolute cutey in the left stand, three rows up, to the right?” The senpai asks, dreamily, and Kagami is stuck in replying; Daiki shakes his head in dismay, patting the junior’s shoulder.

“Ignore him,” he advises, and Kagami blushes, moving to the batter’s box. Daiki cannot help but admire the curve of the hulking teenager, his concentrating features, his tense muscles and fingers that are itching to prove what everyone on the team already knows: Kagami sucks at bunting.

“Strike two!”

“Kagami!” He calls, because he can, the distance between them so small yet so far. “Relax you big idiot! You can hit bit!” Kagami glances over his shoulder at him, stunned at what he does not know, but the next second the redhead turns to face the pitcher, and his arm swings just so.

There is dead silence as the stadium watched the ball nearly disappearing in the bright daylight as it soared into a high sweep before, like a tiny _bop_ , it hits the back screen.

Daiki does not know if this is where he falls in love. But the wide grinning smile and the arm raised high above his head, making the customary round on the bases, fills his sight and his mind, and he is returning the grin dazzling unto him. There is a particular peace in his being even as his heart does the heavy thudding of a bull razing a field, and Kagami comes to a halt right in front of him.

“Senpai,” he pants out, cheeks red from the heat of the sun and the excitement of his first homerun in high school, “that was for you.” Daiki blinks, confused. “That homerun,” Kagami goes to repeat, “was for you. Thank you, senpai!”

Daiki chuckles first, the little sounds turning into uproarious laughter. He points his bat into Kagami’s chest and smirks out, “I want more than just a homerun, Bakagami!” And he leaves behind a dumbfounded redheaded kohai, to stand in the batter’s box.

Aomine Daiki is walked by the opposing team’s pitcher, but he struts his way with no shame. The smile on his face and the thoughts crowding his head is all of Kagami, but he will never tell the cheeky male that. He has his pride after all.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note** : Taken straight from Wiki with some editing, a **wild pitch** is “when [a pitcher’s] pitch is too high, too short, or too wide of home plate for the catcher to control with ordinary effort”. So I was going with this part of the meaning for the title.

The idea this time is due to chatting with _pueppies-blog_ , and being encouraged to get over my exhaustion, so… a little _senpai-kohai_ relationship writing and a the sense of _senpai’s_ pride :D

AoKaga Month Prompt: AU.


	57. From the Stock - XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **A father’s dissatisfaction on the status quo.**  
>  [Triple D.]

* * *

 

 

Kagami-san is unsatisfied with the answer. He moves away, and the frown on his face is clear for Daiki to see. It takes a lot of calming breaths to sit straight and stare disapprovingly at the man now looking over at him, and though it would dock the brownie points in his favour, Daiki is hard-pressed into caring about anyone else’s feelings. Taiga’s resounding silence speaks for itself as it is.

“You might think that,” Kagami-san says, still looking at Daiki and talking, “but what about your boy toy over there?”

Daiki bristles. Taiga bristles.

Being the more vocal one when angry, Taiga snaps, “He isn’t my boy toy! Don’t confuse me with you!”

Kagami-san brushes off the insult like he has been brushing off everything Taiga has been saying. Annoyed, and about time he stepped in, Daiki drawls out, “It sounds as though you’re sad that Taiga has me around, Kagami-san.”

Dark red eyes are not anywhere close to forgiving. They bore into him, assessing, marking down kill shots easily enough that Daiki should be afraid of this large man, but he is not. Just knowing how much Taiga values him is enough to ease back into the sofa, spread his legs in that defiant blasé attitude he is used to portraying.

Neither of the three males in the vicinity move then, remaining in their loci as though they were waiting for an outside force to spring. Taiga finishes making the tea, and while returning to where Daiki was, he jostles his elbow into the tautly wound father.

“Stop being angry about her,” Taiga’s timber is low. “She’s always done what she wants, says what she wants. You’ve never been able to control her, so don’t try to start now.” He barely glances at Daiki, “Not for our sake.”

 

 

* * *

 


	58. Let Me Do You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 11:  
>  “Let Me Do You”**  
> Is Said Loud Enough Even Though The Words Do Not Pass From His Lips.

* * *

 

“I think we have a problem,” Aomine starts to say even as Kagami is already pushing his shirt off lithe shoulders, fingers incessant and prodding, a little forceful but still gentle, and Aomine cannot find it in himself to really frame his sentence in his mind even though his mouth is already moving, quick and smooth unlike how he is fumbling against Kagami’s body; he is certain that if he does not speak up now, he will never get a chance to, so he rushes with “I’m supposed to be leading us”, but all Kagami does is scoff egotistically, red eyes laughing, mouth hinged upwards with suppressed mirth—and Aomine knows that the smile speaks loudly what Kagami does not say—to him it appears that Kagami is writing it off as “What are you talking about? Just shut up and  _let me do you_.”

 

 

* * *

 


	59. Don't Give Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **He has already spent so long trying to get him, now he does not know how to keep him by his side.**

 

* * *

 

 

Aomine is irately packing his bag, throwing things left, right and centre, not caring if his items are landing in the seemingly bottomless hole he calls an overnight bag. The air is thick with unsaid words and the aftereffects of words that were said. Taiga watches silently, furious with himself for starting it, and furious with Aomine for ending it in this way.

“Don’t go,” he says instead of pleading. His pride gets in the way at the worst of times, but he cannot stamp it out now for reasons unknown. His hands twitch to just grab the bag and fling it across the room, but they remain the way they are, gripping his shirt after being forced to cross against his chest.

“It’s not like you want me here,” Aomine gripes.

“I do,” Taiga moves forward, as though preparing himself to block the doorway of the bedroom will make Aomine stay a little longer—maybe to talk it out. “I do want you to stay.”

Aomine’s eyebrows scrunch up pitifully. It’s the ‘ _I’m close to crying in frustration and tearing my hair out, but you’re still standing there staring at me so I won’t_ ’ look, and Taiga is infinitely pleased he can read it for what it’s worth; it means he has a chance to correct his foolish words.

“Please don’t leave, don’t give up on us,” and finally, like a floodgate opening, his pride bows down and Taiga can actually say these words to the man who he has—after days and weeks and months of trying—gotten under his skin.

Aomine drops the bag he was trying to close, sighs loud and long, and mutters dispassionately, “I’m not.”

Taiga’s arms drop down to his sides.

“I’m not,” Aomine repeats. “I’ll never.” Pained blue eyes look over a suddenly small shoulder (and Taiga blames himself for making the proud beast look so frail), and he says with a heated passion that Taiga thinks he cannot match ever, “I’ll never give up on us.”

And Taiga smiles, watery and slight, reaching for the outstretched arm of Aomine’s.

As their fingertips touch, Taiga knows he will work on those turmoil feelings, together with Aomine. They will get through whatever was making them scared of completely embracing each other.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:**  A little something on the spur of the moment since the AoKaga Month tag seems lonely on Tumblr.

(So this was kind of a hint hint moment…do something about it people!!)

 


	60. Instructions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Script:**  
>  Instructions  
> 

* * *

 

 

[Enter AOMINE, where the set shows KAGAMI reading a book on the sofa. The day has been long and AOMINE has travelled after a hard practice courtesy of his new club Captain, and he looks to be in the mood for a fight. KAGAMI barely registers that he has arrived.]

 **AOMINE:** [Dropping his bag.] Kagami, we need to talk.

[KAGAMI looks up at the boy, bookmarking the page he was reading and setting it on his lap. A confused expression filters on.]

 **KAGAMI:** About what?

[AOMINE gestures at the book.]

 **AOMINE:** You might want to prepare yourself first. Put the book away.

 **KAGAMI:** [Baffled.] What is this about? Has something happened?

[KAGAMI is now looking concerned at the straight faced AOMINE.

 **KAGAMI:** [Stage whispers.] I have never seen him like this before. I wonder what he has done this time. Maybe he’s making sure there is nothing I can hit him with when he finishes telling me what he’s done. Well, I don’t need objects; I’ll pound him with my fist!

[KAGAMI concentrates hard on the advancing AOMINE, eyebrows drawn close together; his fists are clenched on his now book-free lap.]

 **AOMINE:** [Approaching.] Just follow my instructions, okay?

[KAGAMI nods silently.]

 **AOMINE:** [Positioning KAGAMI's arms.] I’ll just put this arm here and spread this…hey put your right arm over there.

[KAGAMI, confused, listens to the instructions. Soon he is sitting as though he is holding an imaginary barrel on his lap. The frown on his face is deepening.]

 **KAGAMI:** [Angry.] I am feeling foolish.

 **AOMINE:** [Waving his hand.] You are foolish. Okay then, all done. [Sits on KAGAMI's lap.] Now that isn’t so bad, huh?

 **KAGAMI:** [With an armload of Aomine.] …I don’t understand. Didn’t you say we need to talk?

 **AOMINE:** [Disapproving.]Hah?! That was just a phrase.

 **KAGAMI:** [Baffled.] Then what the hell just happened?

 **AOMINE:** [Sour faced.] You’re ruining the mood. Can’t you just cuddle quietly? Does everything have to be your way?

[KAGAMI flaps his mouth open and close, eyes round at the absurdity. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around AOMINE's waist, causing the boy to gawk.]

 **AOMINE:** The hell—?!

 **KAGAMI:** [Smirking.] You wanted to cuddle right? [In English.] Let’s do this!

[KAGAMI buries his face into the crook of AOMINE's resisting neck, until the dark skinned boy calms down with a huff. Long limbs drape around broad shoulders as AOMINE drops his head onto KAGAMI's.]

 **AOMINE:** [Mumbling.] This is nice, right?

 **KAGAMI:** Hmm. [Pauses.] You could have just asked.

 **AOMINE:** [Blushes.] I could, but how’d I know if you’d let me?!

[KAGAMI tightens his hold.]

 **KAGAMI:** I’d let you now because I know how good this feels. [Cheeky grin.] You’re such a softy, Aho.

[AOMINE grumbles wordlessly. He only burrows further into KAGAMI's arms. The lights dim on the boys nestled within each other’s arms.]

 

 

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I was writing a proper prose piece, but then I though...it's been a while since I wrote a script format, so I went with it. Was it a good idea? ~~I still don't know how to cuddle, I tell you; I feel stuffy when the hold becomes too long.~~ Besides that! I might find myself lacking inspiration soon, so please review with your thoughts! It's nice to hear feedback :D

 AoKaga Month Prompt: Cuddle


	61. From the Stock - XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Because Daiki is bad with words of comfort, he replaces it.**  
>  [One Word Less than a Triple D.]

* * *

 

 

There is a rush of activity then, when Kagami-san storms past them and heads to some obscure room further into the apartment and all goes still around Taiga and Daiki. They wait, breathing shallowly, like hunted animals their eyes are still and their ears are paying attention; the man does not make any movement.

Taiga lets out a gusting sigh, dropping boneless into the sofa beside Daiki, resting his head heavily on his shoulder. Daiki curls an arm around Taiga. As though requiring more assurance, the large body of the redhead instantly draws closer and Taiga takes a liking to the big cat he is synonymous to, curling up like a sleeping kitten. Daiki frowns—once again he has no idea what to do—so he just buries the curled form into his side, and they sit, anticipating.

Their cuddle is deep and full, even if one-sided, and the soft puff of each breath Taiga releases, warms his chest where the other lays his head. A hand previously hidden within his curved body comes out to pursue around his thigh, and then finding his right hand, squeezes it tight.

“I’m sorry,” Taiga mumbles, each words reverberating in his ribcage, “that my family members are all stupid. Didn’t want you to see the drama, so I didn’t tell you they here.”

Daiki is surprised by the confession but not so surprised by the reason.

“I won’t pretend to understand why your father is the way he is,” Taiga squirms to glance at him from the corners of his eyes, bleak reds peeking through thick lashes. “But it sounds like he cares more than…more than your mother does.”

Taiga huffs a laugh. Daiki hates this sound it makes. “No sugar-coating, huh?” Daiki tightens his hold around him. “You might be right.”

 

 

* * *

AoKaga Month Prompt:  ~~A Failure of a~~ Cuddle.


	62. If It Serves Two Purposes, Why Not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The only way Taiga would allow him to take care of it is if Aomine worked a little faster for his liking.**

* * *

 

 

Taiga frowned.

“Geh, I think I made it too sour.”

A groan followed his statement, and after a few moments, the heavy weight of a barely awake Aomine draped over his shoulders. Taiga almost kicked him off before the need to rectify his mistake took over his sensibilities. “This will be the third time you’re making it wrong.”

He glared at the dark temple next to his head. “I am so sorry that I can’t read your elementary handwriting!” Shrugging the teenager off his shoulders, he mumbled despairingly, “I give you one little job and then you go and ruin it.”

“Oi!” Aomine snapped in his head, coming back to laze on his shoulders. Taiga ignored him as he added more broth to the soup base he was stirring, making sure it did not boil, and as an added precaution, flicked two more spoons of powdered chilli in it; spicy was better than sour at this point. “I told you to record the fucking episode, not make me speed-write it out for you! Who does that anymore?!”

Taiga continued scowling. “By the time you set up the channel for recording, knowing you, I’d get the end credits. Now shove off, I’m hungry.”

“I’m hungry too!” Aomine growled in his ear, the once lazy arm now tightening across his neck. Taiga gagged. “You’re making me wait an ungodly amount for fucking thai soup!”

“Stop bothering me at the stove, you idiot! We’ll get hurt!” Taiga dug his elbow into the hard abdomen behind him, but gained no leeway. In fact, that just spurred Aomine even more to stay on Taiga’s shoulders for longer. Realising it was a moot point, Taiga sighed and concentrated on his bubbling soup. “And its Thai Crab Curry, you imbecile. Now get.”

Taiga poured a little of the soup into a bowl, bringing it to his lips and slowly tasting it. “Ooh,” he smacked his lips, “Spicy!”

“Ahn?” Aomine sounded, nearing.

“Taste this,” Taiga crowed, almost forgetting the argument they were having.

“Sure,” and Aomine leaned over, tilting his head, and smoothly grabbed Taiga into a lip lock. Surprised, Taiga’s jaw unhinged, giving Aomine plenty of space to trail his tongue passed his slack lips, licking them from the inside. He swiped the bottom row of teeth, bending his tongue to touch Taiga’s before he coaxed it into life. Taiga jerked in Aomine’s arms as he was forced to take part in the impromptu kiss—something they have never done before—and soon found himself kissing right back.

Aomine pulled away first, the  _smack_  of them separating a sharp sound over the bubbling soup on the stove that Taiga forgot about. The other male licked his lips, a leer starting to twist them upwards, and he drawled out in his adenoidal voice, “Thanks for the meal.”

Agitated at being played, Taiga smacked the boy’s arm with his ladle. “Fucker,” he enunciated, “Take your filthy ass out of my kitchen!”

“But you asked me to taste it,” Aomine drag a thumb across his lower lip, smirking, “And it tastes good.”

Taiga swivelled around quickly, furiously starting to mind his food, arm jerking at every circle he completed while stirring. “…What tasted better?” He found himself voicing out loud.

There was a brief lull of silence before Aomine chuckled.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replied, heading out and down the passage to the bathroom.

Taiga, left to fend their meal, brought an arm to his face. He could not tell if it was burning because he was working at the stove, or because of Aomine’s cryptic response.

“That aho,” he mumbled. 

 

 

* * *

**Author’s Note:**  I have no actual words to describe this properly. My mother used to make me do this, write down the recipe after watching the episode, and it was already too late to record, and since I was the quickest at recalling and writing down what happened, she used to delegate it to me. There’s a part where Kagami says he used to recreate recipes after seeing/eating it, so I just used that idea.

Forgive this. m(#._.#)m

 

AoKaga Month Prompt: Taste.


	63. From the Stock - XIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **And then he sees the other half that made his precious person.**  
>  [Four Words More Than A Triple D.]

* * *

 

 

Taiga ends up sleeping with Daiki following a close second to the motion, only to be woken up by the door opening. It takes him a few seconds to realise that they are still in the Kagami residence and were napping it out on the sofa. It also does not take long to figure out why he woke up.

Dark hair tied in a bun behind her head, a woman standing strong and tall, towers over them. Taiga, being out for the count, remains unawares of the danger lurking just behind, even though Daiki was not a stranger to glares and scowls; the facial expression on her face looked worse than he was capable of. Daiki felt like the scum of the Earth under that stare.

“And you are?”

Her voice was calm and steady, pronunciation sharp and careful—so unlike Taiga’s gruffness and Kagami-san’s adenoidal tone—the woman sounded like clear water.

Before he can reply, Taiga is already stirring from his sleep (maybe because Daiki’s heart was going into overdrive) and blurry red eyes blinked into cognizance when the sharp gaze from above caught his attention. Immediately Taiga sprung up, back straight and neck taut, and his face turned down and away.

“Is this that boy you were talking about?”

Daiki never noticed how quiet the loft was until then. Taiga had mentioned once how hollow it sounded, but sitting there now, with this being looming over them like they have committed a crime, makes the place seem like an abyss. The fingers around his hand loosens, but Daiki surges to grapple it back into a hold.

Unrecognisable coloured eyes dart quickly to their joined hands. Thinking he might try to loosen the hold again, Daiki grips harder, only to receive a near bone-crunching squeeze back.

“Daiki,” Taiga says, “Meet my mother.”

 

 

* * *

 

 **Author's Note:** o.O this is almost running out of parts. 


	64. Okonomiyaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 12:  
>  “Okonomiyaki”**  
> May Mean ‘Grilled To Your Taste’, But That Does Not Mean You Steal My Food!

* * *

 

Aomine watches Kagami languidly, as the boy makes the large savoury pancake, artfully layering the ingredients he had rambled off to the waitress; he can tell that the other teen does not care what he puts first or last, as long as the sauce covers it and he is grilling it to perfection, though suddenly Aomine wants to lean over and take it away ( _because_ _isn’t that what okonomiyaki was all about?_ he thinks), spearing one half and dragging it to his side, mindful of the war Kagami unleashes to get his food back—he takes a bite and his eyes widen ( _it’s just okonomiyaki, so why?)_ and a surprised “delicious” slips out—and he becomes responsible for the pleased hue blooming on Kagami’s cheeks.

 

 

* * *

 

  **Author’s Note:** The literal translation of "Okonomiyaki" is along the lines 'grilled to your taste', where ‘taste’ is the ‘preference’ of the griller. I remember distinctly that a Drama CD was made to extend the part where Midorima  & Takao, and Kise & Kasamatsu are _having_ okonomiyaki with Seirin—but I don’t have the audio any more so I can’t be too certain if it was Midorima or Kagami who was picky about how the pancake was cooked. Oh well.

AoKaga Month Prompt: Taste (again; sorry ;_;).


	65. From the Stock—XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Daiki is the forced audience to Taiga’s “rebellious phase”.**  
>  [Triple D.]

* * *

 

 

Daiki does not need to tilt his head much to see the clouded expression on his face. Taiga always used his facial muscles to speak more than opening his mouth, he felt, and now was no different. Taiga could say the same about Daiki, loosening the bone-crushing grip, allowing blood to reflow into his hand, before cauterising it again. Daiki would have winced if it was the right time and place, maybe even scowl and knock Taiga on the head, but the imposing figure of the woman who birthed his Taiga is still present.

Before he can take a breath and start speaking, the woman is already rushing into a speech Daiki thinks he can do without. “Taiga! What did I tell you in the morning?”

“I didn’t hear everything,” Taiga mumbled through clenched teeth.

“Is this your rebellious phase?” she snapped, voice high but sounding more confused than Daiki thought she should be. “Is it?!”

“No!” Taiga snapped back.

“Then what is it?” Her voice dropped to a low pitch. “Didn’t I say we’ll talk when I come home?”

“Well, you’re home now,” he muttered, turning his head away. Daiki blinked at the pout on his face. _What the hell is happening?_

“I am, but,” the neat woman’s head turned to face Daiki, and being the person he was, he turned to look her straight in the eye. An embarrassed flush painted her face while the last dregs of sunlight pliffered through the open window. “But D-Daiki-kun? He’s already here!” She waved a hand in his direction vaguely, unable to put into words what she wanted to say in front of him.

Daiki scoffed under his breath, but the sharp eyes that darted to him said that it was not as soft as he thought it was.

“Yea, he’s here.” Taiga agreed. “And if we’re going to talk about my relationship with him, he should be around for that too.”

Taiga’s mother remains staunchily silent for a second before she huffs, folds her arms across her chest and—dare Daiki think it was one—whines out, “Mou! You and your father are always like this!”

Eyebrow visibly ticking under his bangs, Taiga glares up at his mother, slowly standing up. “I told you before; don’t—”

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** So the next part will be the last. And longer. I will be unable to post in a few days, so this will probably make up for the nonsense I put you guys through. Hopefully when I get back to Tumblr, I’ll be able to post longer and better pieces.

Until then, enjoy the little things :)


	66. Lucky Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 13:  
>  “Lucky Numbers”**  
> Do Not Include Your Boyfriend’s Phone Number

* * *

 

 

Taiga was so confused when he kept getting calls and messages from a person called ‘Hot Bod 2134’ who even after he blocked said number found some other way to try his luck (now ‘Sweet Ass 24’), to the point where he was woken up in the middle of the night, screaming bloody murder, and all Daiki did was mutter something along the lines of “Let it be; it’s probably that promotion site I registered you for”; Taiga sees more red than was allowed for a male his age, and fuming, kicks his boyfriend off the bed, demanding, “The fuck didn’t you give your own number?!” to which Daiki scowled and whined out, “But I don’t even use my phone when I’m with you,”—branding Taiga an idiot for feeling both annoyed and contented on hearing that—he kicked Daiki again, just in case, pulling the covers back over himself.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:**  Eh…so this was something small (I’m too tired to edit the longer one I meshed together while waiting for my mother to be discharged today), and I just found out my sibling did this to me (so mean!!) and so here you have it, AoKagaAo version :P


	67. “—cute.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **In the era of digital technology, Aomine is forced to write.**  
>  Introducing: _Kise Ryōta, and Kuroko Tetsuya._  
> 

 

* * *

 

 

Aomine stares at the paper as though it was going to suck his soul through his eyes if he so much as glared at it. He wanted to, from the very bottom of his heart, but the pen in his hand twitched with the amount of pressure he applied on the plastic cylinder. The colour of his fingertips changed from dark brown to pale cream, his knuckles sharp enough to cut through his cheek, resting against the clenched hand, wondering about his next step.

“It isn’t so hard, you know,” Kise goaded him, sucking on the straw of his drink. The blonde was leaning over the blank page himself, long bangs creating a shade over the paper. One strand trailed against the pen’s end, and with every breath he exhaled, the fine golden strands fluttered. If he spent more time debating what to do, staring at Kise’s perfectly glossy hair, Aomine was going to wax poetry that would potentially kill him.

And not solve his current problem.

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled. He tapped the nib of the pen on the corner of the white paper, dotting the surface in an array that would have showcased his artistic talent (if he had any) but at the moment, he was trying to do large strokes more akin to calligraphy than dotted artwork. Kise had the gall to tell him the same, too, resulting in the confiscation of the drink he was slurping.

“Hey! Aominecchi!” Aomine clicked his tongue at him, swirling the contents of the drink. He glared at the fruity taste when he took a sip, annoyed, and almost spitting it out at the blonde, then decided against it; he just returned it back through the straw.

“This stuff if nasty, Kise,” he complained, reaching for a fry from his tray only to realise he had desecrated it earlier in his agitation.

“No! You’re the nasty one, Aominecchi!!” Kise whined, pushing the drink away, making a face as if Aomine had killed his pet and sent it to him by mail. “I don’t want your backwash!!”

“Geh,” Aomine ignored him as was usual, staring at the paper. In the era of digital technology, he was forced to write. And for what? “Why did I agree to this again?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Kise snidely replied, turning to watch foot traffic from their window seat, “maybe because you’re a terrible person?”

Aomine wryly grinned, “And why are you bothering with me then?”

Kise glanced at him. “Maybe because I like Kagamicchi too much for him to suffer your idiocy.” He sighed, sounding pained, and Aomine knew he was heading into dangerous waters; it was time for the theatrics. “Poor Kagamicchi, writing such beautiful little post-it’s for you each day, leaving it for you to find by happenchance and luck, brightening your day like never before; and you?” The glare was uncalled for, Aomine thought, peeved. “And you throw those notes in the bin after scoffing at it.”

Aomine blanched. “What did you expect me to do? Carry it in my pocket or categorise it according to the place and time I found it?” He did a whole body shivered. “No way! That’s too gay!”

Kise’s eyes narrowed further. “Are you still trying to deny your gay feelings at this point of time?”

Growling, he lowered his voice, “Why do my feelings have to be labelled anything?! It’s enough I have them in the first place, and it’s enough that Kagami knows I have them.”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Kise looked up at the ceiling, sighing, “I think he already knows that.” Aomine glanced down to the blank paper again. The empty lines mocked him despite being laid flat before him and him staring down at it from a height. Undaunted, it remained pristine and sparkling, daring him to taint it with his awkward characters. “But you not reciprocating in some way—and no, text messages do _not count!—_ just makes it look sad for him, you know.” He taps slender fingers on the table near the edge of the immaculate white dyed paper. “Who knows how many minutes he wastes, trying to fit one sentence on that post-it, encapsulating all his love on it for you, and you don’t even care to return the favour, to show him you appreciate it.”

If Aomine did not know any better, Kise sounded jealous. Very jealous of _him_.

His throat suddenly constricting, Aomine ground the pen’s nib harshly against the table.

“…You really don’t have to spend so much effort on this, Aominecchi,” Kise finally mumbled out, bending his forehead over his intertwined fingers, hiding his face. “If you really have these _feelings_ for Kagamicchi, then it should be a cinch, right?” It takes Kise a second longer than necessary to raise his head to send forth a blinding smile at him.

Cursing at every one and thing in his vicinity, Aomine brings the paper forward and starts writing.

 

* * *

Kise waves at Aomine, getting a half-hearted one in return. He did not care much, swivelling on his heel and flipping open his phone immediately, pressing the speed dial.

It did not take long for the line to connect.

Kise smiled at no one.

 

* * *

  _Next morning_ …

Kagami had a near heart attack when he put on the bathroom lights, and instead of seeing his face saw a white piece of foolscap taped to the reflective surface. Blinking away any remaining sleep, he neared it, confused, until he could clearly read the words on it.

As it registered, Kagami chuckled softly to himself and before very long, burst into irrepressible giggles. “Fucking cute,” slips past his thoughts into words. He went back to the bedroom, grinning and humming under his breath, unable to stop the skip in his step either. When he returned to the bathroom, he raised his phone and clicked a few pictures, trying to get the best angle. Admiring his handiwork, he took down the note, carefully folded it and put it in his pocket. His phone, though, had more of his attention then, quickly typing out a message and attaching it.

Before leaving home, he stops by the block of post-it’s he had bought on a whim, and for the first time since then, he does not consult his phone. Biting his lower lip, he concentrates on the sole line he jots down, chucks the pen in its place, and pulls the post-it free.

He grins, the expression light and soft (and something that remains with him throughout the day) smacking the coloured paper on the door before he leaves, knowing Aomine would see it.

Kagami really wishes he can see his face when he reads it.

 

* * *

Kise takes in the large smile brimming on Kuroko’s face as a sign that he can officially start gloating.

“How was that, huh, Kurokocchi?!”

Kuroko clicks the image and enlarges it enough to read the _katakana_ of Aomine’s handwriting, so familiar, it was nostalgic.

_“Sometimes I hear people tell me that I don’t deserve you, but they don’t know how much I tell myself that every day. I don’t ever want you to feel that I ignore those post-it’s you spend much of your time writing for me, but unlike you, I don’t know what else to do. We fight on a near daily basis, but you never bring up the things that really bother you. Was I insensitive? Did I take things for granted? Because I really didn’t mean for that to be. Hey Kagami, know that I spend most of my day thinking about you—with or without those post-it’s—so please, don’t stop. I promise to do something about it. Like start collecting it. Daiki.”_

“Very well done, Kise-kun,” the smile was turned down a notch for him, but then Kuroko let it drop completely. “And are you trying to get on my nerves about this? So you did a good job into cajoling him into writing it, but it was originally my idea.”

Kise sniffled, tearing up, “But I did such a good job at conning Aominecchi, didn’t I?! At least praise me for that! Kurokocchi!!”

Kuroko ignored him, getting back to the message he received from Kagami. He chuckled at the picture, saving it before he gets rid of it by mistake, and fingers already itching, he sends a reply to Kagami, and being who he was, congratulated Aomine, too.

You know, for being the simple man he was.

 

* * *

 Aomine is already later than usual, grumbling as he pulls on his shoes haphazardly, tugging his bag along with him, cursing himself for not changing the alarm since he stayed the night, and almost missed the post-it. Almost, being the operative word, since Aomine paused long enough to peel it off. Squinting at it, his jaw drops open.

“…those fuckers!!” He snarls loud and long, crushing the little paper in his large hand carrying the words, ‘ _Aho, want to go get dinner with the guys after? Kise just came into a lot of money, and I think you’ll want to squeeze him dry for all that declaration of yours was worth. Love ya, too, Taiga.’_

The door bangs shut after him, the noise echoing down the corridor and following his stiff and hunched back as he stomped towards the elevator.

Somewhere else, a blond man shivers inexplicably.

 

 

* * *

  **Author’s Note:**  No, I don’t know what I was thinking. In the end I couldn’t redo the stories I lost, so here’s a filler :)


	68. Feels Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **This time, Taiga can’t really smack him; Daiki, after all, is not only a boob-freak.**  
>  [ _26 Words Longer than a_ Triple D.]  
> 

 

* * *

 

 

Taiga was three milliseconds away from smacking Daiki on the head so hard the man would lose his jaws (and maybe need those dentures he was making fun of earlier), before said man turned to him, a serious expression clouding his eyes.

“Hey Taiga,” he started, jerking his chin with all the grace the man ever owned, “I wonder what it feels like.”

Taiga’s mouth unhinged, he was sure, before his palm immediately came up to smack his forehead in despair. Since Taiga was the first ever person Daiki dated, he knew that the other was oblivious to the real things he harped about.

“What did we discuss about your boob-fetish? That it would remain in your head and you will never speak of it to me, right?” Taiga can feel his eyebrow ticking in both revulsion and annoyance.

“What?” questioned Daiki, momentarily appearing distracted before he resumed his earlier track of conversation; “I wonder what it feels like breastfeeding,” he jerked his chin again, “your child.”

Taiga’s fingers curl into a tight fist, raising his arm to punch Daiki until the man’s next words caught up to him.

“You know, being the only one who can provide the child food and sustenance and no one can take your place.” Daiki grins, a look that cannot be described, and stretches his arms above his head. The profound words echo in the small space between them. “Well, there’s baby formula and all that, but you know,” he shrugs, casual, but his neck muscles are tense, tight, “I just wanted to know what it might feel like.”

Taiga’s arms fall short, replaced on his thigh with nowhere else to be. He glances across their seats where a woman was covering her front as she breastfed, a content, placid look on her face. He reaches out for Daiki’s knee and squeezes.

“Yea,” he murmured, “It’d be nice to know.”

They do not talk the rest of the way home.

 

 

* * *

  **Author’s Note:**  According to Sigmund Freud’s Psychosexual Development oral stimulation stage, fixation at this age leads a child to be constantly craving oral stimulation either because they were deprived of it or given too much of it. I think Aomine falls in this oral fixation category with his constant ‘big boobs’ association in the manga and anime. (Who knows which really describes him?)

 

[I also did not know that my stories were not getting updated. Sorry about that ;_;]


	69. From the Stock—XV [Final Part]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Gone is the mystery Daiki is piecing all the parts of the puzzle together for. Now he knows what he is dealing with, and now he knows he can truly help.**

* * *

**Author’s Note:**  Sorry peeps, in the end there was no time to sit and put this up—despite packing the day before my flight, things do not go as planned (at least where my mother is concerned, probably a firm advocate to Murphy’s Law)—so here’s part of the stuff I promised.  ~~Oh, and ignore the horrible mistakes…travelling from one airport to another and the free Wi-Fi was just…yea, free.~~

 

* * *

 

 

“I told you before; don’t compare me—Ngh!” Taiga’s loud voice suddenly drops when Daiki reaches out to grab his arm, a silent plea not to argue trivially. He can tell that Taiga is under duress and unable to really take it out, but he knows how bad it could be if the family does start a shouting match—nothing will really be said and if anyone listens carefully, they will hear more hate than the actual problem.

Daiki knows these arguments.

Taiga tries to calm down physically, drawing each breath through his nose, holding it in, and then releasing it as slowly as he can, all the while staring at Daiki’s fingers curled around his wrist.

“Taiga…” the voice is softer than he thought was possible. Both boys look up at the woman. She is frowning, her eyes are narrowed but her eyebrows speak the truth behind the expression; Daiki almost feels like there was a role reversal here, and he does not understand it.

Taiga turns away, dissatisfied, looking past her out the window. He realises that the lights need to be switched on but he cannot shrug off Daiki’s hand. The warmth from the grip is more comforting than he thought it would ever feel in their relationship. Smiling sadly at the thought, Taiga wants to bury his face into the other teen’s neck and pretend that there was no one but them in the place that had become theirs. He almost wants to scream and shout, force his parents out of the loft, but he cannot, and his inability stays rooted within his heart, anchoring to remain docked.

The lights do come on, though, even if he has not moved from his stance. Instead Daiki tugs at his arm and brings him to sit back down. His energy saps out like a burnt out wick, boneless, he rests against the backrest, closing his eyes.

“Why did you come along?” he asked of the woman.

Daiki glances at her before she has a chance to answer. A hand was raised to her chest, clenched tightly, but when she noticed Daiki watching her, she immediately looked standoffish. He almost wants to call her on it, but as he is learning, there are so many things he does not understand. The silence between this family is a little heavy to deal with, and without words, he does not think he will ever get it.

He quietly slips his hand into Taiga’s. At the most, he can be there for him.

“Where’s your father?”

“Inside. Sleeping probably,” Taiga answers dutifully. The woman nods, crossing the back of the couch, glancing at Taiga’s bowed back head, before presumably heading inside for her husband.

Daiki takes this time to carefully massage out the knotted tension in the redhead’s hand, thumb pressing hard but gentle circles above the knuckles peaked sharply. He passes a seemingly confident smile but he knows in his heart that it is weak, and though Taiga sends one equally small stretch of lips towards Daiki, he almost feels like the redhead is looking through him. Concerned—he has only seen this once on Taiga and that was when Daiki had informed him of bringing him over to his place for the first time—Daiki grips the hand tighter, gearing to say some words of comfort (or anything at the point really, because that look was physically painful to be the receiver of), but loses the opportunity when Taiga’s mother returns, this time with Kagami-san.

Taiga is facing away from the couple, staring at the darkened evening sky from the open balcony window. Daiki, used to this uncertainty radiating from all these Kagamis, simply stayed put. It was nerve-wracking, especially when he did not know what to expect, but for some reason… Looking at Taiga’s taut neck and back muscles, he knew it was mostly anger, though there was an emotion he could not peg on the youngest redhead in the room.

“Taiga,” the mother started, and Daiki’s eyes immediately darted across the room, taking in each and every expression on all Kagamis in the room. “You know why we said we need to talk.”

Taiga did not move to register what she was saying.

This time, instead of the mother, Kagami-san spoke up. “If you are just riding on your emotions and think they will take further than you currently stand, you are dead wrong, son.”

“Don’t son me!” Taiga snapped. “You don’t give a rat’s ass if I was gay, trans, non-cis or whatever it is they call us now!” He turned to glare at the older male. “Naming me something is not going to change what I have for Daiki.”

Daiki felt warm, a sensation he was starting to like every time Taiga was upfront about his love for him. It made holding the boy’s hand more comforting than just baseless **

Spinning around to now face both quiet parents, Taiga demanded, “Why do you even care? Go about your own damn lives like you always have?” He ground his teeth, shaking. “I was only telling my grandmother about it, not you.”

Even if Daiki frowned it would hardly change or make a difference. He found it weird that the parents kept quiet despite their adamant stance in the beginning.

Kagami-san, in a sotto voce pitch, said, “I care about how my son may end up doing the same things I did years ago.”

Taiga paused in his movements.

The man continued. “I thought that the guy I loved back then would stay by my side no matter the consequences.” Kagami-san sounded lonely and tired, like the idea itself was too burdensome to try. “He was fine coming out to his parents, but when the time came to face the outside world, he…” Kagami-san did not need to continue.

His story though, made Daiki wonder, looking at Taiga in confusion. “Then…” he mumbled, looking over for confirmation.

“His father told him he would have to give up being “gay” and take over the family as a—” she glances heavenward, a distracting expression to make, “—normal man.” At this, Daiki did not have to point out what she was doing in the equation. It was obvious, if not painful, and the matter-of-fact relation of the story was without shuddering or filled with hurt. It was as though she was talking about someone else. “Our marriage was out of convenience and Taiga was…born out of that convenience.”

His jaw snapped hard against both rows of teeth. Now he understood why Taiga was reacting that way.

Being homosexual or not, did not change the fact that Taiga was the child born out of necessity and not love. Was that why he did not care for the couple? Or did that make Taiga even more sensitive to the topic?

Before Daiki could reach out to Taiga, his mother interrupted, voice high and strained, notes tumbling into one another, “But Taiga always thinks we don’t care for him. So we have been a little strict and we’ve made him be more independent than most children his age are, but that’s only to teach him how to make responsible decisions in his life. He’s done splendidly, even if he’s not taking the route his grandfather wants him to, and both of us are really supportive of his basketball achievements. If he wants to go pro, that’s just the icing on the cake. But what will happen if it goes public that he’s gay, especially in Japan? We just don’t want the same thing that happened to his father to happen with him,” Daiki looked from her to Taiga, seeing a tick forming in his cheek muscle, but the boy refused to speak the thoughts plaguing his troubled mind.

“Maybe,” Daiki said, soft, “he’s not angry that you two have left him to be independent or anything,” besides Taiga, the Kagami parents blinked confused eyes at him. “You know, maybe it’s because instead of showing him support unlike how you guys had it, you are indirectly telling him that becoming like  _you_  and having a child like  _him_ ,” Daiki jerked his thumb at Taiga’s bowed head, “is a seriously bad thing to end up as.”

There is silence following his words, but knowing he can help clear what Taiga is obviously feeling in his heart, Daiki adds the final blow, “Aren’t you just showing him that besides saving face, you don’t really love him for being born?”

Taiga stiffens immediately, and form where he sits, Daiki sees red eyes go wide. He hardly has time to assure his boyfriend that he was just making a point before a choked sob permeates the air. Shocked, Daiki snaps his head to the side, staring.

Crying, Taiga’s mother hangs her head in shame, covering her face as tears freely flowed down her cheeks. It is a passing thought that she looked pretty even like that, and it is probably one of the features Taiga has inherited from the seemingly aloof (not anymore) woman.

Taiga is already on his feet, hesitant with his arms out, not knowing what to do. Daiki wonders if this was a first, seeing his mother like this, or that Taiga just does not know how to approach the situation after all the things that were said. Sparing a cursory glance, Daiki holds in his sigh. Satsuki was right when she said spoke about Taiga’s directness and insensitiveness, so sensing that none of the three Kagamis would react appropriately without help, Daiki nudges the redhead closer to him towards the sobbing woman.

Surprised and abashed, Taiga stumbles forward until he hesitantly pats her on the shoulder. This caused the woman to only cry harder. Muddled on the next course of action, Taiga glances behind at Daiki, who urged him with his chin, and with some more prodding (seriously, Taiga was like a baby at these things, Daiki thought), Taiga gathered the snivelling woman into his large embrace.

Daiki watched the comical sight of the mother and son complex, grinning at how the tall woman looked meek and small in the young man’s arms. He wishes he can sneak a picture of the moment until a petulant sigh disrupts his thoughts.

“Aren’t you worried that you are causing your parents grief?” Kagami-san asked, hands on his hips. “And stop hugging my wife, damnit. You’re boyfriend’s here.”

Taiga immediately glared over the woman’s head, showing teeth, holding her tightly. It is a distinct thought of the teenager not being able to do this often that causes Daiki to step in between father and the son.

“Ah, let him be. I won’t be jealous of mother and son,” he hoped his tone of voice spoke the threat he did not say out loud.

Kagami-san looked him over. “You might not be, but I am.”

Daiki sputtered, baffled. “what?”

“Ignore him,” Taiga’s mother said, voice muffled in the embrace. The fact that she was refusing to pull away and talk said a lot, and Daiki almost sneered at the father. “He’s just being childish that Taiga’d rather touch me than him with a ten-foot pole.”

Daiki snickers at the aghast look on both males’ faces.

“I wouldn’t even bother dirtying the pole with oyaji-germs.”

It was time for Kagami-san to sputter, his arms moving in wide circles before him. “Stop ganging up on me. It was her idea to talk it out to you even when I said to leave you be.”

“And it was you who wanted me to tell him about your vagrant youth,” she snapped back.

“I was not a vagrant!”

A cocked eyebrow followed when Taiga’s mother pushed her chin out to rest over her son’s arm, eyes narrowed. “Wasn’t it you who begged me to marry you because any child of ours was sure to be ‘dashing and handsome and smart, of course’,” she mocked.

“yea well,” changing his tone, Kagami-san turned to face away, “Look at how  _dashing and handsome_  he became, no thanks to you.”

She gaped. “Are you calling my son stupid?!” she balled her fists in Taiga’s shirt. “He’s calling you stupid, Taiga, go beat him up.”

As Taiga moved to follow the weird request, Kagami-san pointed out, “See! He gets his violent streak from you! Earlier on he kicked me so hard, there’s already a bruise forming!”

Taiga and his mother scoffed, muttering out, “Weak.” Glancing at each other, they tittered a sweet laugh, similar to each other.

And Daiki stood, watching the awkward family complain about which parent’s genes Taiga was sporting, and Taiga invariably being the mother’s boy he probably did not know he was, a large grin forming on his face.

It appeared that, even if there were extenuating circumstances involved in Taiga’s birth, he was glad the boy was born, just as Daiki was glad (even if they were appearing to be rather eccentric stock) that Taiga found his place within his family again.

“-that’s why I’m telling you, she’s evil!! She tried to poison you with what she called baby formula,” Kagami-san cribbed. “Have you tasted it? Who does that to their child?”

Taiga stuck his tongue out. “Thank god I was too young to know then. I guess it is better than that  _thing_  you fed me when I was nine.”

“It was an egg! I made the most fluffiest egg you will ever eat in your life!” he demanded.

Taiga shrugged, and catching Daiki’s amused eyes, smiled as he said, “Nah, then you have competition with Daiki over there. His are…what did you call them, fluffy? Yea, his are  _fluffy_.”

Daiki cringed. “That was one time…”  _Yea,_  he decided, entering the family conversation, feeling less and less like an outsider,  _Taiga is certainly from the stock. Brutal to the max._  “I swear that mine were fluffier than yours, though, Kagami-otōsan.”

“Who’s your father?!”

Taiga’s laughter, in crescent with his mother’s, fills the slowly warming apartment.

 

 

* * *

**Author’s End Notes:**  Eh…so I’m sorry if this was not how you thought it would end. I was always imagining there to be misunderstanding on each other’s parts, and even if Kagami-san is supposedly gay and managed to live a life where he had to hide it, he took his future into his own hands, begged Taiga’s mother to marry him (who knows what her story is—I didn’t think that far ;_;) and had the lovable Taiga we all know.

[Er…this also happens to be the backstory of my cousin who was ostracised by our family, until he upped and found my cousin-in-law, married her in the span of three months, and now three years later, has such a cute baby boy. I was in contact with them earlier on, when this idea came about for a potential AoKagaAo, and honestly, it shocks me how my family allowed this to happen to my cousin. ;_; What is wrong with people I honestly don’t know, but my cousin seems happy, so I’ll go along with that.]


	70. Lub Dub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Daiki knows how to be tight-lipped. Unfortunately, he can’t say the same for his heart.**  
> 

**Author’s Note:**  I’m sorry for what I’ve done. But one of the readers (OnLyMinO) had once misunderstood my Run On Sentences pieces (Take #11—“Let Me Do You”), and the idea plagued me for a while.

_So here it is:_

* * *

 

 

Daiki swivelled round fast, angrily reaching out a hand to grab hold of an arm, the shirt, (anything), managing to let his fingers brush just the edge before the other walked right on. Furious, his mouth is already snarling out a “Hey!” but the redhead in question does not react to him. Spurred on, Daiki inches forward quickly and grabs hold of a shoulder this time, turning the male around. Confused, wide red eyes stare at him.

“What’s the big idea smacking into us and forcing her to drop her food?!” he shouts, and many pedestrians flit glances at them, staring, muttering, but Daiki does not care for those; he used up the last of his allowance to make it up to ditching Satsuki last weekend, and now all that money is spread on the floor in a smear. Satsuki herself is tugging on his elbow, “Dai-chan, it’s okay, let it go,” but he cannot seem to do as she requested.

Red eyes narrow under a black baseball cap, mouth turned down.

It is, however, the pale blue haired male at the redhead’s side that speaks up. “I’m sorry, what seems to be the problem?”

And it is then that Daiki learns about the existence known as Kagami Taiga.

A redhead so voraciously filled with life.

A redhead with a smile that burned his retinas like a hundred suns.

A redhead who is an amazing cook.

Also, a redhead who is mute.

* * *

 

Daiki spends the next few days scowling at everything that moves in his vicinity—except the basketball he is spinning on his finger, mind—moping about the disastrous talking down that happened in front of God only knew how many street-crawlers in downtown Shibuya, a place he frequented so often, he would not be surprised if someone pointed at him and called him a discriminator.

It had been on his mind ever since he had been informed that Kagami Taiga (for that was the tall, hunkering redhead’s name) had been born deaf and spent all his twenty-six years of life fending off attacks to his person for being in the way. What made matters worse, his current helper Kuroko Tetsuya shared, was that Kagami was not even blind and they go onto the poor redhead’s case. Daiki had scoffed when Kuroko used that term—the glare he had received from the taller man was nothing to dust off his shoulders, and could have killed a lesser man. Daiki was not a lesser man, and will never be one, so he glared right back.

Only to be gutted by Satsuki for his insensitive nature.

At the memory, Daiki chucked the ball on his finger hard against the wall of his room, catching it by his palm again.

His other hand, fingering a thin white piece of paper, brought its contents to his field of vision. Staring at the numbers, he frowned.

“Better get this over with,” he mumbled to himself, hoping that by this action the guilt at hounding a deaf male would dissipate into nothing, as well as get him back on good terms with Satsuki—she was horrid to have as an enemy, no matter for how short a period.

* * *

 

The look on Kuroko’s face as he neared the duo sitting in a loud café spoke volumes without Daiki even trying. It also went to show that the slighter male was just as fierce as Satsuki was in relation to being angry at him when he had said, “being deaf does not excuse him from apologising when he bumped into us first.” Daiki still stands for that thought, and looking at the glare on both Kagami and Kuroko’s faces, just made him want to egg on them more.

So he was quite surprised when Kagami bowed his head as he neared the table. In a voice that was not his (Kuroko was doing a good impression of a husky male) said, “I’m sorry for the other day. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I hope your girlfriend is not hurt.”

Kuroko glances briefly at Kagami, nodding, and Kagami lifts his head, staring straight at Daiki and causing heat to rise to his cheeks.

Flustered, the only thing he cares to say is, “Satsuki’s not my girlfriend!”

Tilting his head to the side, still frowning, Kuroko speaks for Kagami, “Okay?”

“Yea,” he nods, agreeing to what he does not know, but it made sense to correct the oblivious redhead. Said male has a confused twitch to his lips, red eyes brightening a bit. “And er, about that day…I, er,” he brings a hand to the back of his nape, clenching a fist of the baby hair curling there, “I’m sorry too, about those things I said.” He does short work of a bow, so fast the blood is rushing to his head and back down, causing him to sway a bit. He holds fast either way, watching.

Kagami signs to Kuroko, who ( _that conniving bastard_ ) smiles as politely as possible, and signs back. Daiki knows they are talking about them—or rather, signing about him—but this form of communicating is definitely out of his league of awesomeness, so he remains, floundering internally.

“It’s okay,” Kagami breaks in with his hands, lips partially turning up one side, Kuroko quick to follow with words, “You didn’t know.”

And for some reason, hearing those words, Daiki breathes a little easier than he has been the past week.

He schedules to meet Kagami (and  _that Kuroko_ ) next week.

* * *

 

Daiki spends so much time in between basketball games and basketball practice and basketball meets learning about how to better communicate with mute people, that his teammates, managers and coaches find it disconcerting how he has been staring  _right at them_ while talking. He has learned that some mute people were sometimes deaf, and if not, they preferred being able to see the person while they spoke so that they knew where the sound was coming. Gone was his blasé, nonchalant attitude while speaking since he uses these people as practice dummies for when he meets Kagami once in two or three weeks.

Kagami, on the other hand, appreciates when Daiki speaks with less of a drawl and more eye contact, even though it weirds Daiki out to be told “Thank you for speaking clearly,” and so he spends much of his time heading back home with his hands holding his face. The amount of embarrassment that catches up to him then is unbelievable, and not liking this particularly soft side of him, he stalks to a library and purchases a sign language book.

His mother walks in on him reading and taking notes, and nearly has a heart attack.

* * *

 

Kagami’s red thick and split eyebrows rise so far up to his hairline, Daiki glowers at the reaction. Slower than he would have liked, he moves his fingers and hands about to say, “It wasn’t so hard to pick up a few signs.”

But then for the next hour that they spent together, Kuroko being  _the little shit that he was_  refusing to answer Daiki’s questions when Kagami tried to see how much he had “picked up”. The redhead is laughing and smiling, and overall having too much fun at his expense, but Daiki cannot find it in himself to snap at the redhead. Not when those amused smiles light up his face and make Daiki’s chest tighten to hard, he finds himself panting towards the end of their “meetings” or so Kuroko says the sign means.

Kagami laughs hard at what Kuroko says, thumping the slight man hard on his back, and the blush on his cheeks is different, but Daiki does not care. The sign could mean “your mouth smells like ass” for all he cares, but he cannot let go of the time slot he has started to mark in between basketball practice and basketball match with the little sign that meant Kaga, the little drawn hand sign always bringing a smile on his lips.

It takes him a while before he gets that the sign Kuroko always uses means “date”.

* * *

 

By the time the fourth month rolled around, Kagami did not need Kuroko to tag along to their dates—as embarrassing as it was—since Daiki had made more progress than was apparently necessary to sign whole conversations with Kagami without needing to pause and ask the redhead to spell it out. Or write it down.

Every time Kagami flipped open his little notepad to jot down what he was saying was a huge blow to Daiki’s pride; every character Kagami quickly stroked out was every pinprick painful to Daiki and he could never tell why it hurt him so much.

As the hours turned into days, and as Daiki missed or called in sick for practices, those were the days he poured all his attention on the signs in a book that said it was easy to learn Japanese Sign Language. Soon, Daiki found himself reaching over the table when Kagami opened his notepad to be ready to decipher signs he was using, flipping it shut with a practiced ease that made little butterflies swarm in their own language in his gut.

Daiki has never seen Kagami smile so wide, but he does know it was because of him. It is enough for him to miss a few practices and get a calling out; anything for that beatific smile.

* * *

 

In the eight month of knowing Kagami (Daiki has stopped counting the days he has seen Kuroko), Kagami motions for Daiki to stop signing.

With hesitant gesticulations, Kagami says, “I want to hear your voice.”

Baffled, and slightly worried, Daiki hesitates to follow through. “Why?” He asks instead.

Kagami shrugs, seemingly indifferent, turning to face away. When he is not signing to communicate, he is using his large hands to help stuff his large mouth with food. It was a comical sight, but was becoming rarer as the days they spent increased.

“Not hungry?” Daiki manages to use his mouth. Kagami twitches, looking at the passing people on the street, before he slowly turns to face Daiki. Amused, he asks, “Or are you on a diet?”

Fuming, Kagami calls out the waiter, and using Daiki as a go-between, orders twenty-five burgers. And five sets of fries. And two drinks. “One for you,” Kagami’s hands say, but his red eyes are sparkling with ill-hidden humour.

Daiki chuckles despite it, and clenches his fists in his lap when he notices the pleased look on Kagami’s face.

He resorts to speaking on this date.

* * *

 

By the time Daiki realises why he would not mind being benched at the nearest game his team was to play because Kagami needed to visit his doctor and Kuroko was unavailable that day, he is already stumbling along in conversation with a partly deaf-mute volunteer who directed him to where Kagami waited since Daiki went to park the car.

It is love, his brain tells him, even though his heart is already beating firmly and soundly, in tandem to the sight of Kagami perking up at his arrival.

 They do not spend much time together at the hospital, Kagami detesting the place more than Daiki thinks he could, and soon they are out and trekking it back to where Daiki has haphazardly left his car.

His mouth itches the way his hands do, and before he can stop his muscles from moving on autopilot, he has already signed the dreaded phrase he had learnt in jest months prior: “I am head over heels for you.”

Kagami barely glances at it, scoffs, and reaches Daiki’s car before he does.

Despondent, Daiki keeps to himself in the already quiet vehicle.

* * *

 

The car has hardly stopped before Kagami’s place before the redhead taps a loosely closed fist against Daiki’s chest, and surprised at the contact (especially after he was disregarded earlier at the hospital), he squints at Kagami through thick eyelashes, afraid to open his eyes more.

He is probably a few seconds from crying out in despair if Kagami took any longer to bid his farewell and leave him to mope in peace and without an audience.

Then, firmly, Kagami taps his chest again and then brings the curled fist to lay open on his own chest, and then to his ear. Daiki looks on, confused.

“Wha-?” he barely manages to mumble before the action is repeated. Frowning, he tries interpreting it. “You…can hear my chest?”

Kagami rolls his eyes, exasperated. He motions again.

“I—eh?” Daiki blinks.

Grinning largely, Daiki reads the hands again, and it feels like a miracle has taken place when the sweet-face angel that is Kagami Taiga says, “I can hear your heart. I’ve always known you loved me.”

Daiki chuckles, weakly. “That’s cheating,” he accuses. Kagami soundlessly laughs, more air sounds uselessly moving across his windpipe than anything else.

The Kagami adds, “It’s not my fault your hearing is so bad. As well as your sign language.” He sticks out his tongue, fingers and arms moving across his body, “I was already aware of your feelings; too bad you could not hear my heart beating wildly whenever we met.”

Daiki reaches out to hold Kagami’s hand. He does not need to really hear the redhead’s beating heart; he can feel it in every pulse in his grasp.

* * *

 

Kagami—now Taiga—spends inglorious moments of every waking minute to sidle up close to him and place his ear against his chest. It makes an odd fluttering in his stomach which Daiki is sure Taiga can hear that as well, but for the life of him Daiki cannot push the redhead away.

In fact, he finds himself haplessly tugging the other man closer even, when no amount of words or signs can really speak louder than the  _lub dub_  of his heart with Taiga so close to him. After all, the redhead loved teasing him, signing, “I can hear your heart say it love me every day, unlike that mouth of yours.”

Daiki does not need his speech, he thinks every morning, and every evening; not when his heart speaks louder than his mouth can ever do so.

 

 

* * *

 **Author’s Note:**  The ending was a little rushed :(  But I wonder if the quick writing was okay? I didn’t want to dwell on the disability too much (besides the fact that I don’t know much about it) because it was more about how Daiki was oblivious to the sounds of his own heart changing over the course of knowing Kagami. And how Kagami was easily able to pick out when Daiki fell in love with him :D

Hope you enjoyed this!

AoKaga Month Prompt: Hear.


	71. Good Money For Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Kagami Taiga thinks he has done the worse thing possible, riding his father’s backbone chassis car enough to ruin the lower body and in need of an instant fix-up. Who else can he go to but the town’s scary mechanic’s, genius son, Aomine Daiki?**  
> 

* * *

 

 

Taiga loomed over the dark skinned man under the hood of his father’s car, teeth grating against each row as he took in each of the tongue clicks the other male was making. “Well?” He asked, leaning forward, arms clenched tightly across his chest, “What is it?”

The mechanic, Aomine Daiki, sighed petulant, turning to glance over his shoulder shortly before resting his forehead on the bumper as he squatted. His long body looked awkward squeezing in such a tiny crouch and Taiga felt slightly guilty for making the other male do this.

"Gimme a break. I did Tetsu a favour and his car wasn’t in such a bad condition. What the fuck did you run over? You have a fucking low chassis, for crying out loud."

Taiga took in the annoyed eye roll with one of his own. Aomine returned to his tool stand that he had dragged unconcerned to those around him (since they had sneaked into Aomine ‘s father’s garage, Taiga wondered why they even bothered if Aomine was going to alert everyone in the neighbourhood that they were there), and had set up shop in front of Taiga ‘s father’s car.

He watched as the blue haired youth frowned at the tools, picking up one, examining it with an afterthought, looking at the car and then up into the sky, pondering many great things for all Taiga cared, as long as Aomine said  _something_.

Growing annoyed with the silence, Taiga almost wanted to snap at him to get a move on, before Aomine’s adenoidal voice hummed low as he spoke. “How are you going to pay for my services?”

The candid question, and the shrewd smile thrown back at him over a well-defined shoulder joint, staggered Taiga.

Raising an eyebrow, he asked back, “What happened to ‘doing me a favour’?”

Aomine scoffed. He dropped the tools he held in his hand, turning to face Taiga and cocked his hip against the open hooded car. Taiga ‘s eyes involuntarily curved to the clean lines that drew Aomine’s figure. He trailed the defined abs covered by the thin material of the white wife beater he donned, the straps sitting in the little groove just before his shoulders curved down to his long ripped flexible muscle massed arms. Taiga refrained from licking his lips; he got punched the last time he did so, and he would prefer to walk out of the garage relatively unharmed by the violent  _ganguro_.

"Of course I ‘ll fucking pay you," he ended up saying. The resulting frown to his statement was not left unchecked, and categorising it in his mind for later perusal, Taiga jerked his chin towards the car.

Wordless, Aomine resumed working, the silence punctuated with clanks and clangs intermittently, the scrape of steel, the smell of oil, the droplets of sweat nose-diving off Aomine’s sleek dark skin, the concentrated furrow in between his eyebrows accentuating the handsome edges of his cheekbones and the smooth curve of his cheek, down to the sharp point of his chin. Taiga would have to deem himself stupid not to appreciate the quiet solitude’s atmosphere since it gave him an unparalleled view of the working Aomine Daiki in all his glorious sweaty dignified self. If his pants were unduly tightening, Taiga would play dumb to what was pitching a tent in there; being stuck in an empty place with a fine specimen of male working bent over an open car hood, Taiga really would have to be a megalomaniac idiot to ignore the view.

Sighing to himself the injustice of being tortured to the inch of his restraint, Taiga looked heavenward for deliverance away from temptation, closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall separating the garage to the office section.

It was going to be a long morning.

* * *

 

It might have been the lull in noise that alerted Taiga to awareness. Snapping his eyes open, he darted them to the car only to see the empty space before his father’s car. The hood was still propped up and the pulley that Aomine had been lying on was drawn forward, void of the male Taiga was looking for. Frowning as was his default expression, Taiga straightened, bringing himself to the work space and looked around.

Aomine had disappeared.

"Oi Ao!" He called out, his voice echoing in the garage in an awkward resonance, and as he heard the end of Aomine’s syllable come back to him for the last time, he called out again. "Aomine!!"

"Stop screaming like a little girl," griped Aomine’s voice from behind. Taiga swivelled. "I was washing up. Your car’s—"

Taiga knew he should be paying attention, but the sight that greeted his eyes demanded all his brain capacity for he has never seen Aomine Daiki standing so fine in nothing but low riding jeans, dripping water from dark blue bangs onto the dark skinned expanse stretched taut across firm pectorals, the light dusted areolas of his nipples standing firm to the exposed air, tiny beads of sweat or water from his neck trailing in a spiral down his jutting out clavicles and off the stiff peaks. This time, Taiga did not stop his tongue from dragging dryly across his lower lip, appreciating the demigod Aomine for what he was.

Aomine chucked the rag that doubled as a towel to some obscene corner, strutting forward. He bangs the hood of the car close—and Taiga has half a mind to berate him for it—and his eyes stagger down to the dip of his belly button, the light valley it created trailing down with a path of pubic hair peeking teasingly from the waistline. Unstopped rivulets of sweat made parallel paths on his abdominal muscles, and it took everything in Taiga to breathe as he watched them soak into the fabric of Aomine’s maroon and black underwear band.

"Now on to the other thing," Aomine said, snapping Taiga’s attention away from the jutting handles known as hipbones. They were the perfect place, he remembers, for his hands to grip. He almost wants to throw a wrench at Aomine for strutting the stuff he could not touch anymore, tempting him with the pleasant burning need he has not felt for months, pooling low and hot like smouldering coals emitting thick smoke that was making him heady.

Sweaty palms bunched up the loose jeans he wore, digging blunt nails into the fabric, chest heaving at the toll it was taking to process the air that his brain required to snap out of the hypnotic stare of dark blue hooded eyes closing in on him.

"I can charge you $238.49 after tax, but do you need help with that?"

Taiga gulped painfully; his throat was too dry to follow through with the command. “No,” he managed, breathing nosily from his nose, “I’ll put it on credit if you don’t mind.”

Aomine’s mouth did that quirk he liked seeing, think lips twitching up and down, undecided if it wanted to scowl or smirk. Taiga used to love wiping it off Aomine completely.

"You sure about that?" Aomine asked, airily, eyes twinkling, “‘cause I can get that for you on a 100% discount," Taiga almost did not catch the flicking finger and the amused glint of white teeth as Aomine spoke, edging ever so close to Taiga against the wall he had been resting at previously. Almost, being the operative word, because the moment Taiga registered where those hooded blue eyes were focused on, the _that_  in question sprung up further.

Aomine’s mouth danced.

Taiga closed his gaping mouth by using his upper row of teeth to grip his plump lower lip, biting it to keep it in place. He filled his lungs with air, and as he slowly exhaled, Aomine’s offer repeated in his head in a slow drone that automatically made Taiga raised an arm to bridge the gap between them. His fingers of his left hand gently brushed the edge of his ear love, stretching further to lightly trail his tips to Aomine’s nape before resting it softly against the warm skin there. Under his palm, he can feel Aomine tense up.

"You sure your father won’t mind you giving out these  _discounts_?” He asks in a hushed tone. His voice hardly carries far. Hooded blue eyes smoulder at him, urging him to do what Taiga does best.

Releasing his lip allows Taiga to stretch a leering grin at the other male as his hand around the slim nape forces Aomine to buckle down to his knees. “Since I’ve already been serviced for one vehicle, what’s another, right,” his eyes gaze down at the almost-but-not-quite-yet adoring look Aomine was returning, mouth slightly parted. Taiga wondered if it was in anticipation for the servicing due, or it was just Aomine giving him a glimpse to the past they once shared. He knows the other male had someone else on the side now, and what they were about to do would ruin anything and everything, but looking at that pliant mouth just waiting to take him in… Taiga nodded at Aomine. “Go on,” he instructed with his chin, “Use that pretty dirty mouth of yours.”

Aomine smirked, hands reaching up to Taiga’s jeans button, unclasping it and tugging at his zipper, and he says, “You like this month of mine. Don’t forget yourself,” the words are mostly mocking but Taiga cannot help but hear the laced plea hidden behind fluttering eyelashes that fall against high cheekbones as Aomine untucks Taiga from his restraints. Aomine darts his tongue back and forth between pursed lips before he lines his lip line once, leaning in closer to Taiga’s proud and weeping cock. He almost forgets to breathe when Aomine spreads open his mouth wide and encompasses the girth of Taiga into his hot moist, eager mouth.

Slowly, Aomine moves when he has adjusted to Taiga, hands that had been tugging his lower body clothes away insistently now lightly trailing across Taiga’s pelvic girdle with nimble fingers, the fleeting touches making Taiga squirm under them. Aomine twirled one lock of pubic hair around his index finger, tugging it, even as his long thick tongue felt the pulsing vein on the underside, holding its weight against gravity and the heavy sucking from an eager Aomine.

Taiga stands with his legs at shoulder span, Aomine nestled neatly despite his large gangly frame, and braces for the tongue workout he is sure to get from Aomine. He uses both hands to guide Aomine—not that he needed to, for Aomine was a grown man who knew exactly what he was doing—and before long, was holding back the moan being sucked out from his bellows.

Aomine hummed, the lilt of the sound questioning, and it took Taiga less than a millisecond to understand him. “Of course it’s fucking good,” he groaned out, throwing his head back slowly enough that he did not concuss as it laid on the surface of the wall. Aomine hummed again, a pleasant vibrating sensation coursing through his groin and along his hip bones, a tickling at his abdomen. His fingers card Aomine’s short hair, massaging the firm scalp in cursory motions, mindful not to start vigorously gratify his building need against Aomine narrowing throat. He was grateful enough that the gag reflex was now gone (Taiga wondered when it disappeared and if it was because of that frilly side dish if Aomine’s, then forcefully shoving the thought aside, otherwise the blow job he was receiving would soon turn into a ‘let’s help it stand back up’ activity), and Aomine was enjoying hollowing his cheeks around his member, so Taiga was not going to think about anything but that wonderful mouth of his.

At each deep throated intake, Taiga’s good mood was dissipating. The gnarly feeling taking root in his stomach was growing further up, and instead of the intense tightening of an oncoming orgasm, a liquid cold line was branching up into his lungs and around his heart. Don, before he can check himself, Taiga is rumbling deep in his chest, “You like sucking cock, don’t you bitch?”

Aomine’s half-lidded eyes snapped open wide, dark blue irises darting upwards. Taiga cannot tell since he is facing the ceiling, distinctly wondering what happened to his head. He is also very aware that the slacking grip around his cock is Aomine’s way of being displeased and shocked at the uncalled for derogatory term.

Since it was already too late—Taiga did not want this interaction to end—the grip on Aomine’s hair tightened and he jerked his hips into the other’s nothing, hitting the flared end at the back of his throat. Aomine’s first reaction was to choke. Dark skinned hands rose up to push back against Taiga’s hips, dull oil stained nails digging half-moons, the marks a bright red against lightly tanned skin. Some of the marks tore at the skin, Taiga uncaring, Aomine drawing blood. One hand gripped Taiga’s hand in his hair, trying to pry it off, but Taiga did not budge.

"Didn’t you want to provide this service?" He goaded, feeling disgusted at both him and Aomine; Taiga knew about the boy Aomine was dating, and Aomine easily whoring out to Taiga. "Since it is obvious how good you got," he thrust into Aomine resisting mouth, gripping him firmly but not looking at the male on his knees, "you must be doing this a lot, huh?"

Aomine made strangled noises, trying to force Taiga to stop the deep thrusts he had started rhythmically in tandem with the words he was sprouting, unheeded that Aomine was finding it difficult to breathe.

Without perchance, Taiga growled as he continued his onslaught, gritting his teeth. “I thought I was lucky,” he mumbled and Aomine was now using a fisted hand to punch his abdomen. Taiga grunted, glancing down, eyes flickering in anger at the resisting male, only to choke on the words he was going to snarl out when he saw the tears running rampant down Aomine’s face. The tightening and coiled heat from both stimuli erupted in the form of his ejaculation, simultaneously as he pulled himself out of Aomine’s mouth. Aomine choked and coughed out a mixture of spittle and cum, and maybe even more tears than Taiga has ever seen on the male currently on his hands. He gagged for a bit longer, heaving noisily, gasping air in mouthfuls, one arm coming to wipe his face off the liquids staining his smooth, one-toned tan. Taiga reached out to help him up but Aomine smacked his hand away.

"Don’t," Aomine choked, in short huffs, obvious to anyone watching that each breath he took was painful, Aomine wheezing. “Don’t touch me.”

Taiga frowned, swooping down to eyelevel, not touching but not wanting to move away. He knew he was to blame, but he could not leave Aomine no matter how much the other male hated him at the moment. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, depressed, “I’m sorry.”

Aomine ignored him. He looked over to the other side, clearing his head as his breathing went from shallow inhales to long and deep, enough that he was not choking on the much needed air. When he settled down, he glared over at his shoulder, and Taiga flinched. Before he could apologise again, Aomine rounded at him, poking him fiercely in the chest with an index finger of death. “The fuck were you thinking you were doing?” Aomine scowled at him. “I  _was_  doing a good deed, but I’m not so loose to do this with every creepy fuck who comes bearing their balls at me.”

The image was crude and blatant like Aomine generally is, and Taiga takes it at face value. The warmth he had felt at Aomine’s invitation for a blowjob had become a cold block of ice lodged in his chest, and even now, the block was becoming sharper, shredding his insides. If he was being honest to himself, it felt like the day they broke up months ago. Taiga cannot even remember why they did, but he would not put it past the reason being his unfathomable paranoia and jealousy. Aomine had initially thought it was hot how he could be as cool as a cucumber, but then hot as a blazing fire, going so far as to instigate his mood changes. As the weeks added on and the months turned to the worst possible times for the two, Aomine was fed up with Taiga’s anger.

“We can’t even go out for a casual game without you blowing a fuse,” Aomine had accused of him. At that time, even Taiga had ignored it, but now, thinking back, it might have been true that his viciousness and irritation of others staring at Aomine (who he had deemed was  _his_ ), made Taiga react unfavourably to everyone, even friends, who had jokingly hit on Aomine.

Taiga had lost more than just friendship; he had lost Aomine.

“Ao, I’m sorry,” he mumbled again, voice dropping in decibels.

Aomine sighed, gustily and annoyed, snapping his fingers against Taiga’s forehead. “What good is your apology, you idiot? It doesn’t change the fact that you almost killed me with your boner.” Aomine foul mouth made Taiga’s mouth twitch briefly at the thoughts, the guilt he was feeling fleeting for a second before settling in deep again.

Taiga stretched his arm slightly towards the clenched hand closer to him on the floor, lightly poking the fist with his middle three fingers.  When Aomine did not move away, he trailed over the white knuckles, edging slowly upwards until his palm covered Aomine’s full hand. Aomine in return did not snap his hand away in disgust, and this fuelled Taiga’s courage, and he gripped the hand a little tighter, pulling it into his own. Aomine tensed, and immediately Taiga relaxed his grip; he did not want to scare the other away.

Slowly, easing up, Taiga leaned into Aomine’s face, nuzzling his cheek with his nose. Aomine tilted his head into the action, a noise at the back of his throat signalling that Taiga was doing something right for a change. Nosing in carefully, he dawdled along Aomine’s jawline, now using his lips to leave a series of light kisses up to the corner of his lips where Taiga hesitated to close the distance. Taking a deep breath when Aomine still did not move, Taiga leaned further and captured bruised lips into a kiss, unmindful to the salty taste of himself and the tears that had managed to stain Aomine’s lips.

The kiss was unhurried and deliberate, each motion almost measured in its embrace by Taiga, and Aomine followed through without a word. At the end, drawing away, the dark-skinned male sighed, thumping his forehead against Taiga’s eyes drifting shut. The creases that had been present from the very beginning of their interaction were now smoothened out, and the relaxed expression on Aomine’s face eased the knot that seemed to grow unchecked in Taiga’s solar plexus.

“Took you long enough, idiot,” Aomine reproached. Taiga hummed, apologetic, rubbing his nose against Aomine’s. The other laughed softly, the sounds smooth and gentle—almost unlike Aomine—but they calmed Taiga’s raging heart into a delicate flutter reminiscent to the days they had just started out their relationship. Nostalgic, Taiga skewed his neck to one side, capturing Aomine’s lips once again.

“Sorry,” he apologised again, and this time, he brought both arms around Aomine to hold him.

“It’s alright,” Aomine mumbled into his collarbone, his lips leaving the area moist. “You still need to pay me $238.49. After tax.”

Taiga does not have anything to deny, the small laugh starting as a bubble in his throat turning into full blown laughter.

 

* * *

 

**Bonus:**

Taiga genuinely asks when Aomine looks unimpressed at his laughing stance. “What is this, throwing good money after bad?”

“Shut up,” Aomine declared, wiggling his arms under Taiga’s, encircling him with a harsh grip. “It’s a new money-making scheme. I entice you with my bad boy charms and you throw good money for the bad, you fool.” And saying so, Aomine reached over to pull out Taiga’s wallet, leafing through its contents. “As it is you owe me for all the bad decisions you kept making when apart.” Frowning he looks at the bleak contents. “Hey, go withdraw more money. This is ridiculous. You can’t even pay me for my services!”

Taiga cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously? Shouldn’t you check to see I have the money before you  _serviced_ me?”

Aomine scoffed, leaning more into the embrace despite the haughty words coming out of his mouth. “How are you ever going to get me to do it again, I wonder, Kagami-san?” And cheekily, Aomine grabs fistfuls of Taiga’s ass.

Jerking up, Taiga grins. “Well…you’re some investment if getting my car fixed allows me a free sampling of the owner’s son. What’s this promotion called?”

Growling, Aomine states, “It’s the ‘You keep yapping and Aomine Daiki will handcraft a new asshole for you’.”

Taiga laughs at the threat, and grabbing both of Aomine’s cheeks, says to him, “Oh how I missed this dirty little mouth of yours!”

Aomine smirks, an easy tilt to his lips. “Of course, you clearly lost control. It wasn’t even a minute before you shot your load!” he cackles, and Taiga, annoyed, pounces on him.

“Let’s see how long you last!”

Aomine howls as Taiga pulls at his clothes. A rattling of metal behind them makes them freeze, and hesitantly, they jerk their eyes up at the entrance. Familiar blue eyes glare at them, a scowl worse than Aomine’s on the elder man’s face.

“And pray tell, what are you doing to my son, Kagami- _boke_?!” Aomine’s father roared.

Taiga gulped, sweating buckets even as Aomine giggled evilly under him.

“Serves you right, ass,” Aomine leered. Taiga glared down at him, promising pain in the near future  _after_  he escapes the cold fiery wrath of Aomine-senior. 

_Honestly, could his day get any worse?_

 

 

* * *

  **Author’s End Notes:**  The bonus part didn’t seem to fit in the flow of the main story, but after writing it, I didn’t want to get rid of it. Woe is me. Hope you guys enjoyed this lame blowjob. Like honestly, I wanted to go back and make it more detailed, but was distracted by so many other things today. :’(


	72. He Lives By Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences - Take 14:  
>  "He Lives By Them"**  
> Is What He Thinks Until He Is Given A Slice.

* * *

 

 

Daiki bets that between the two of them, Kagami was the one who suffered the worst, staying alone with no one to cook for him—at least Daiki can mooch off from Ryō at school—and pitied the redhead for being able to only afford Maji Burgers in bulk all the time, that is until Kagami turns a horribly putrid colour from outrage and says he can _bake a cake and eat it too_ and Daiki nods sympathetically until the next time, Kagami shoves a strawberry shortcake slice in his face with one hand, the other holding the rest of it at bay; he tries it, suspicious, then declares, "I don't believe that _you_ made this. Bake me a cake on the 31st, one with blueberries, and I'll believe it," not telling Kagami that he had never tasted something so divine before, and the Higher Being known as God  knew that Daiki was sly enough to trick Kagami into thinking only of him, on his birthday, baking him a cake.

 

 

* * *

 **Author’s Note:**  Haha, only one day left of this month and I’m already sad that my reason to write every day is gone now. ;_; So here’s the first of the last three of the month. I’ll be slightly busy (moving today) but thought a few Run On Sentences never killed anybody (yet).

Enjoy Aomine Daiki’s birthday peeps! It’s definitely a reason to have a slice (or two, three, or maybe even the whole) cake!! :D

AoKaga Month Prompt: Lasts/Birthday.


	73. He Only Knows One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences - Take 15:  
>  "He Only Knows One Night"**  
> And It Is A Nightmare He Knows Very Well.

* * *

 

Nightmares and Aomine go hand-in-hand, but the day he hears Kagami is leaving Japan it dawns on him that he did not know true fear; he wakes up every day before the other teenager is ready to leave him behind, Aomine's heart squeezing tightly in discomfort, his chest heaving from the shortness of breath, and like a living nightmare mockingly consoling him that Kagami will not see the distraught expression clouding his face, the redhead turns to glance over his shoulder, a tickling smile halfway between grin and cheek, he asks, "You free on your the night of the 31st? Wanna go out when I get back?", and Aomine scowls, probably blushing at this point, snidely denying _who would want to spend their birthday with you?!_ , but he goes home anyways and prepares for a date that is a month too far away, feet and heart light as a feather.

 

 

* * *

**Author’s Note:**  Hmm…so I actually wrote this on my flight (in between trying to shove the fellow using me as a pillow and restlessly hoping I would fall asleep on the 9 hour flight). And then I thought…about this.

AoKaga Month Prompt: Lasts/Birthday.


	74. Forever By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The journey of Daiki and Taiga, abridged.**

**Warning(s):** Since it is a journey, please be prepared for anything. I wanted to actually do a more comical take on it, but… my plans never really work nowadays.

Also, the title is partly ( _I kid you not_ ) taken from the song ‘ _Forever By Your Side_ ' by The Manhattans. It's honestly a very nice love song, though I wasn't thinking of it until I was posting the story here. Read the lyrics if you'd like :)

* * *

 

 

Daiki closes the door of his room, lingering on the doorknob and wonders if he has made the right decision. Hearing the resonating laugh from Taiga makes him smile, shaking off his unease, heading downstairs to join his now-boyfriend, leaving his room for the last time as a single person.

 

* * *

 

They are stacking the odd boxes, one on top of the other, mismatched, dirty, broken and discoloured, before Taiga snarls into the basket, “Why the hell did you need to dump all the souvenir sweets in the bag with the wine? What are we going to give your father? He’s going to ask what happened _again_ to his share. He already thinks my father’s a drunkard!”

Daiki sighs, moving to lean against his arms supporting his back as he stares at the pale ceiling of their small studio. “Eh, this is why we shouldn’t leave the packing for last minute. There was no place I your bag, so I just…put it in there.”

Taiga growls, eyes narrowing before he pushes the bag closer to Daiki. Daiki’s eyes narrow too. “Well then, since it is your bag, you can explain why everyone will have to share this last box.” And as though pitying him, Taiga sighs and nods gently, “Good luck with that.”

Daiki grabs the empty bag and vows to never buy souvenirs again. “The last time,” he snarls, “The last fucking time!”

 

* * *

 

Taiga chuckles as he sees Daiki frown into his now empty wallet, unable to stop himself from saying, “What happened to that declaration of yours?”

Daiki turns to face him, confused.

Mockingly, while walking backwards and away from Daiki, Taiga sign-songs, “It’ll be the last fucking time I buy anyone anything.” Laughing, he runs away before Daiki can catch up to him, hoping disappearing in a larger crowd would dissuade the other from killing him.

Unfortunately, Daiki hardly has the sense of shame to restrain himself, being broke and all.

 

* * *

 

Daiki drops the keys on the table, frustrated and annoyed, leading the way further into the house proper. Taiga follows him, sheepish.

“Dai, I’m sorry,” he starts to say, but Daiki is already beyond angry at the redhead. “I honestly forgot that I hadn’t sent it in.”

At the sink where he is searching for a clean glass for water, and not finding one since everything seems to be in the sink, he bangs his hands on the counter, making Taiga jump. Daiki is hardly emotionally violent, and while forgetting the last month’s bill was not something he could pass off lightly, it was also not something the other should get angry at him for. After all, Daiki sometimes forgot important things too.

“It’s not about the bill,” Daiki says, dully grasping his hands against the counter as they made fists. “I don’t care that we had to drive all the way up to town and pay those bills. It not that.” He glances over his shoulder at Taiga who is waiting. “Taiga…when was the last time you were actually long enough at home to know what was done and not done?”

Taiga remains silent, half confused and half anticipating.

“You’re hardly at home, you hardly cook our meals anymore, you hardly do laundry at home. When I cook, you’ve already eaten out and come back; when I clean up the house, you’re picking on what I haven’t dusted up to par for you; when I come home after the night shift, you’re still not back home.”

Daiki’s voice became softer as each fact was listed, and hearing them, Taiga could not deny it.

“This house is so lonely without you, taiga,” he says, a hint of a whine at the end of his sentence, but more pain present. Taiga immediately rushes over, invading his space, and Daiki lets him because honestly, he is not so angry with the other male, just sad. Hugging each other, Daiki almost pleads, “Please don’t let me be the only one invested in us.”

Taiga clenched Daiki tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, over and over, a few times more than a hundred, before he finishes with a sweet whisper, “This will be the last time I’ll make you feel this way.”

Daiki believes those words and nods into the embrace. He would have to kill Taiga if the other man did not follow through with his words.

 

* * *

 

 As the last child left the room, mumbling _oyasumi_ and rubbing their eyes theoretically for effect, Daiki sighs, throwing his head back, arms akimbo.

“I am so glad we don’t have children,” he says to the redhead picking up the miscellaneous toys from the floor and other surfaces those toys did not belong.

“That wasn’t what you were saying two nights ago,” Taiga smirked, and before Daiki could lunge at him to shut him up, Taiga was already doing a bad falsetto—who exactly was he imitating, Daiki would have asked, if there was only someone else besides him that Taiga liked to mimic—saying, “Ahh! Fuck me, fuck me harder Tai! Fucking breed me! I wanna have your children, let your spunk fucking fill meeee~!”

The words, now sounding horrendously filthy, made Daiki blushes a hundred and forty nine shades of red, the last possible shade being black as he sailed high in the air and landed on the laughing redhead, struggling to get the man’s mouth to stop yapping permanently.

“You bet that’s the last time you get any, Bakagami!!!”

“…Tai-ji,” a small voice called out.

Two heads snapped at the door where the child who was supposed to be in bed five minutes ago was now standing with a confused pout on. They do not even had time to disentangle and ask what they were doing up when Taiga was stared at with wide eyes, “What does spunk mean?” Tilting the head to the other side, mouth opening again, Taiga’s face drained of all colour while Daiki’s next fifteen shades turned the blackest known to man, “What does breed mean?”

“No more,” Daiki murmured, voice chilled to the bone. Taiga does not glance back at him, eyes focused on the child as though it was an escaped animal. “Never doing this again for her.”

Taiga frowns. “I don’t even think you’ll have a choice, being dead and all.”

The elbow to his rib was probably what he deserved, if not more, but the lecture he received by _everyone who heard the story_ , was not.

 

* * *

 

Daiki is the first one to hear the news, grinning sharply as he saunters into the house an hour after he has just left it for work, a newspaper clenched tightly in his hand. He does not wait to be received properly, swinging onto what little space the counter provided after he shared a searing kiss with Taiga, saying, “Oi, let’s move out from this dump.”

Taiga scoffs, his go to expression when Daiki says something beneath him. He has mastered the sound and pitch and tone to an art form, and he can confidently inform people that the scoff he used was level number sixteen, the ‘ _you need a hobby that does not involve making my ears bleed with the utter nonsense you are sure to sprout in the next fifteen seconds_ ’. It is a very precise scoff since Daiki has positioned himself on the counter, a move he does only when he wants to fly off it as he delivers his punch line.

“No,” Taiga says anyway, just to keep the ball rolling; Daiki does not know of his scoff-levels.

But unlike usual, Daiki is unconcerned at the rebuttal, grinning still, and as he does jump off the counter, he says simultaneously, “Let’s get married then!”

Taiga freezes. “We can’t, not in Japan.” He halts briefly to glare at Daiki. “Enough of your nonsense; aren’t you late for work?”

Daiki flaps his hand at that, then shoving the newspaper into Taiga’s chest, unfortunately still grinning. “Leave that, listen to me,” he is saying and Taiga takes the proffered newspaper, going to put it aside, and Daiki almost haggles, “If you don’t move somewhere else with me, marry me!”

Daiki is persistent for something that they both know all too well that they cannot do. Especially here in Japan. Taiga glances at the paper Daiki is gripping the edge of, as if trying to tell him there is something he should not leave unattended for, and so Taiga tugs it as gently as he can, unrolling the folded newspaper. As it takes its original size, Taiga’s eyes quickly see the falling object, reflexes still good as he caught it mid-drop, but the text on the newspaper steals all his senses away.

In large bold font, as it was to be, it said, “Legalisation of Homosexuals in Family Register” and Taiga first has a heart attack, before he seizes Daiki in a thrown hug, holding himself with sheer willpower even as his knees are week. There are hot streaks of tears running down his face, and when his left shoulder feels cooler than it should, he knows Daiki is crying too.

“Yes,” he says, or maybe shouts, he does not know. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.” He feels like if anyone asks of him anything the answer was not going to change. “Yes, yes,” he is stringing the word until he goes silent from a surge of emotions he cannot tell heads or tails of.

“One last time?” Daiki murmurs into his neck, a plead that Taiga cannot help but grin at, even if saying it again makes him feel foolish.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” he says, and many more times until he—or was it Daiki, he does not remember whom—stops due to breathless laughter taking over in place of the word.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, Midorima informs them of the house.

Taiga is the only one able to see the place with the Doctor, and the two awkwardly enough make rounds in the neighbourhood, finding the short condo, and observe it from the front. Midorima takes out the set of keys he had been entrusted with, and leads the way inside. The house is not flashy, and looks perfectly serviceable, and Taiga is already counting down how long until they can buy the house off fully from the government. He mindlessly follows Midorima, until the man gestures for Taiga to venture the place himself.

“It’s a nice place,” Midorima says, his voice is a little odd, and Taiga glances at him in confusion.

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” The green haired male shurgs, looking ot the side and out of the adjacent window.

Frowning, Taiga wants to get into his face and make him snap out of it, but Midorima does it all on his own.

“The patient to whom the house belonged to, spent his last few hours in this house,” Taiga shivered, officially beyond disgusted, almost heading back out the door in case of vengeful spirits, but the other was not done. “He spent most of his aging years in this house with his wife. She passed away two years ago.”

Taiga pauses along with Midorima. The man is still looking out the window, his normally smooth features furrowed in the same distinct frown Taiga remembers from High School. The nostalgia is warming and he lets a small smile flit through, wanting to comfort the obviously distraught doctor.

“They reminded me of the two of you,” here, green eyes flick to Taiga, snide, “All idiots,” he says, and Midorima’s mouth twitches up.

“Midorima…” Taiga does not know if he wants to be angry or not, but does not get a chance to choose.

“This house should do you good,” the other says, turning to face him completely. “It’s in a Leo’s luck that you buy a house today.”

Taiga sputters. “Are you nuts? We haven’t even considered the options and we haven’t even seen around the neighbourhood or thoughts about where to get the loan!” Maybe medicine made Midorima crazier than he had been before. As he thinks to tell him that, Taiga is interrupted by the superior push of spectacles up a slender nose. The finger facing him almost mocks him.

“No worries,” he breezes by, “it will all be taken care of.”

Midorima signs as a benefactor in the loan he drives Taiga into getting. Daiki is on the phone as they sign it, screaming and shouting, and Midorima is glaring at Taiga as if it was his fault.

“Why are you so gung-ho about making me buy this house?” he demanded, pulling Midorima to a stop before the man could out walk him to his car. “And this cannot be in that Oha-Asa thing you follow.”

Midorima keeps his lips pursed for a second. Eyes hardly blinking, he says, “I would have rather you taken the house than for it to be given to me.”

“Huh?”

“My father left me that house,” he confesses, his voice small, “He sold my childhood home to buy one closer to the hospital, and my mother died anyways. I’ve never been to it. Not once. That house…does not mean anything to me, but it meant a lot to him.” Taiga squeezes the elbow more gently this time. “There’s no one else I know who would need a house, and it would be better in your care than someone I don’t know.”

A few minutes later, Taiga is walking almost shoulder to shoulder with Midorima, a knot of unvoiced emotion in his throat. “Thank you, Midorima,” he manages at last.

Midorima pushes his glasses up, looking straight ahead. “It was nothing,” he was back to his megalomaniac self, “I told you earlier; Leo’s had to buy something big today.”

Taiga sputtered for the second time that day. “You ass!! You said house first! I could have bought a ‘Big Mac’ for all it mattered!!”

Midorima snorted, clearly looking down at him. “But a house is a big thing. Be happy now.”

Taiga’s eye twitched. “Don’t demand that from me! Each and every one of you!” He scowled. The two continued on, in heated silence, until Taiga said, “Why the hell did he buy a house so far from the beginning of the street? I thought he wanted to be closer to the hospital.”

Midorima shrugged again, delicate. “It was a last resort, how would I know?”

Taiga takes the answer at face value, but gripes out, “If he’s haunting the house and that is the real reason you don’t want it, I’ll kill you.”

For the first time in ages, Midorima laughs.

 

* * *

 

“Is that it?” Satsuki asks, holding her child’s arm tightly or else she would have to round up a search party for look for him.

Daiki scowls at her. “What do you mean? Of course this is it.” He waves his arms before them, aggravated. “What is wrong with your eyes? It’s perfect.”

Satsuki is distracted about all the wrong things, Daiki thinks, watching as the pink haired woman scold the young boy clutching her hip who was currently staring at him. Daiki stared back, eyes narrowed for effect, and the child ducked his head away. Satisfied—the little twerp was never forgiven by him for that time years ago—he turns back to the problem at hand.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asks.

There is hesitation in answering, but Satsuki still gives it to him as honestly as she can. “Frankly,” she starts slow, “I think this is the last thing Kaga-min would really want form you.” She places a hand on the bike Daiki had showed her, appreciating the strength beneath her fingers and can only wonder at the power that would purr to life when it was switched on. She can tell Daiki spent a lot of time picking out the gift, but she still thought his better half (who would contest her about it, other than Daiki himself) would not want his thirty-sixth birthday gift to be a motorbike, no matter how awesome it was.

Daiki sighed after she explained to her the reasons Taiga would not be a hundred and twenty per cent happy, and he cannot help but agree.

“I don’t know what to do…” he says in his hands, dropping his face further into them before rubbing vigorously. “I honestly don’t know what to do.”

Satsuki pats his back soothingly; it works on her children, and Daiki looks like he needs a motherly touch now and then.

“Maybe…” she said, looking down at her son, “Maybe what you need to think about is the next stage of your relationship,” she hinted at.

Daiki snorted. “We’re already married, what more do you want us to do?” He was quick to shoot down the idea. That is, until the silence made him look down at her. Satsuki’s other hand was holding onto her son’s arm, keeping him in place, and the two adults stared at the bemused boy for a while.

“I promised Taiga I will never go back on my words,” he tried in vain to dispute the idea, physically drawing away. “Honest. The last time we babysat, we said thank god we don’t have kids. Right?” He asks her. Satsuki looks straight at him. “You remember, right?” he almost forces her to remember the debacle.

Satsuki simply smiles and says nothing. Daiki drops her home shortly after. They do not speak of it with anyone, neither with each other.

 

* * *

 

Taiga is trying to hold in his laugh as he catches the look on Daiki’s face.

“I thought I heard you say it was going to be the last time you come near a child willingly.”

Daiki snapped his teeth at him, their new way of sending each other insults, since the decision to adopt a child had been brought up. Kuroko had been the helpful _little shit_ and informed them that the authorities would sooner throw them in the garbage than let their filthy mouths come any closer to a child. While the exact words were not pleasant to hear, it was still an eye-opener. Homosexual relations being legalised in Japan was not enough to let the government slide off on adoption procedures for them. it made things harder, and the two knew better than to look for an extremely young child to foster as their own.

“We’ll just…I don’t know…browse through?” Daiki hazard.

Taiga cuffed him on the ear. “This isn’t a supermarket you are cross-checking prices and products at, you oaf.”

Daiki scowled, rubbing his stinging ear. “I know that, but…” he glanced at the building before them. “It’s daunting.”

Taiga inhaled largely, holding his breath before he let it out in one smooth stream. “I know. It is.”

Squaring his shoulders, Daiki stretched out his arm and glancing in a meek fashion at him, asked, “Shall we?”

Taiga took a second to nod in acquiesce, taking the proffered hand and interlacing their fingers. As one, they walked towards the establishment.

“Do you think we’ll find someone who will love us?” Daiki questions in a voice so soft, Taiga imagines it.

“Idiot,” he says, tugging at the arm to bump shoulders with Daiki, “It doesn’t matter if the child doesn’t love us. We’ll love them and who knows, they might as well learn to love us back,” he pushes against the door, leading the way. “Do you think children are born with the innate feeling of loving their parent? No, they learn how to love them because the parents have already had a head start in loving them. It’ll be the same for us. The last one to love anyone will be them, okay. So now wipe that stupid look off your face; you’re scaring them away.”

“Taiga,” Daiki calls, making the redhead halt in his near march towards the visitors desk. Taiga stops to glance at him in question. “I love you.”

It takes Taiga a second to scoff at the other male. “Idiot. I just said it. A parent has a head start on loving their child. In our case, the last one is you,” he sticks out his tongue.

Fuming, Daiki demands, “Are you calling me a child?!”

“You said it, not me,” Taiga sing-songs, and before a fight can truly start, a doe-eyed woman greets them.

 

* * *

 

The constant, fierce battle for proving they were adept at taking care of him came to a stagnant phase where there was no news from either the agency or the lawyers and they were at their wits’ end.

Uncommonly, it was Daiki who was more frustrated, Taiga already settled in with the idea that nothing perfect comes easily, and the child they want to call son is more than perfect in his eyes, and he is sure that no matter the battle, he will win the war with Daiki beside him, in the end welcoming their son home. He had been unduly worried months ago when he had started thinking about the boy as his own, the last line he had drawn for his own safety blurred beyond recognition mostly due to how fast he was speeding away from it as he crossed it.

Daiki had been the vocal worrier.

“Why are they asking for our statements again?” he would ask one day. Then it would be, “Didn’t Midorima and Kuroko send in their letters? I know Kise did, and Satsuki made me mail hers. Akashi someone got someone to kick-start Murasakibara into writing more than a few lines; I even have a picture of it,” Daiki rambling to anyone who would listen.

It was usually Taiga, as they lay together on the floor of their now seemingly large house. They had pushed away the coffee table closer to the sofa set, and spread dead centre, with their feet intertwined with each other raised onto the large fatboy buggle-up. Most evenings are now spent lying just like this, not doing anything but talk about what they will do and what they should do. They could have spent this time sexing each other up, but whenever they think about the third person they wanted to share their lives with, Daiki and Taiga lay nestled side-by-side and wish that the third little person was in between their bodies, telling them their stories and adventures of the day.

“Today’s going to be the last time we mope about it,” Taiga informs Daiki as he enters the house some weeks later, a tired grin on his face.

The resounding smile brightens up the whole area, and it is probably what keeps Taiga sane enough to stay still when they wait to pick up their son from the agency, a whole two years older than when they first saw him.

“Hey,” Daiki greets the boy first. Curious dark eyes that are closer to black than the blue that they are, stare shyly at the crouching male. Taiga glances from the dark blue head to the dark head of the boy who, on seeing Daiki’s outstretched arm, goes stiff in fright of what to do. The questioning furrow of both forehead and mouth are clear to read to the both of them. “Read to go home?”

Taiga grins widely as a small hand reaches out for Daiki’s arm, and unable to hold himself back, Taiga rustles soft dark bangs with his fingers.

Taking his other free hand—he is too excited to wait for the child no matter how many times he had reminded himself the previous night, almost staying up as a result—Taiga sidles to his free side, Daiki on the other end, and the three walk through the exit of the agency for the last time.

 

* * *

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” is Daiki’s first exclamation, before he runs his hand through Taiga’s hair. “What did you do?”

Taiga shrugged. “We were passing a new store that was offering free services for its first fifty customers and guess who their last fiftieth was?”

Daiki glances behind Taiga immediately, preparing himself for the worst, but their son, Shinobu, appears the same as he had last seen him. Turning his attention back to Taiga, he asks, “You said you’d never dye your hair when the first grey hair reared its ugly head. Now what changed?” He tugged fiercely at the hair between his fingers. “And did they not know how to colour match?!”

Taiga sulked, smacking his hand away. He headed towards the kitchen, Shinobu following, a cheeky smile on his face. Catching it, Daiki narrowed his eyes at him, and as a response, Shinobu angled his chin at Taiga, carrying his share of groceries along.

“Ask him again,” Shinobu advices.

Suddenly feeling the mischievous nature to the hint, Daiki hounds Taiga.

At last, Taiga heaves his shoulders, throwing his hands up in the air as he plainly informed Daiki, “I asked for dark blue, but the hair turned a sickly purple-pink colour and then we had no choice but to dye it completely black.”

“But why?” Daiki demanded, already guessing the reason.

Realising where it was headed, Taiga snapped his teeth at him. He tries to evade anything else by picking up the egg carton and distracted himself with putting them away. Daiki did not let him go. “Were you feeling lonely? Being the only redhead in the family?”

Taiga blushed, a hue close to what his hair used to be. Suddenly, Daiki grins, leaning in. With a husked whisper, he asks, “Does the carpet match the drapes?”

The last egg in the carton ends up on Daiki’s face.

 

* * *

 

Shinobu is crying openly for all those to see. No one comes near him, since no one knows what to say. They are standing at the side-lines, finding the words that would make the young teenager feel better, but the words choke up and die unsaid.

There is a myriad of emotions being strangled where they are, and Shinobu is the only one able to express them in the form of hot tears rolling down on his still plump from baby fat cheeks.

Despite the sounds he is making, all is quiet; they sit in rows on the floor. The air conditioning whirrs in an almost silent fashion unless one was seeking the noise it made. They were not. Not when Shinobu was in front of them, crying.

And laughing, but they were only watching as the young boy held his stomach and jostle around the area, unable to stay in one place because he is hysterically laughing and crying.

“One more time,” he huffs out, short gasps of breath tiding him over, “One last time, tell me how you guys managed to send them for that?”

Kise edges forward eagerly, a bright smile now lighting his face even though the laugh lines as he aged are apparent, but they still made him look dignified. Midorima just looked like a posh doctor, and he did not even smile the way Kise does. Shinobu looks up to the doctor, the only one in his fathers’ group of friends that could not read the mood. At the moment, though, his uncle Kise was a better choice to hear the drama again.

“We told them you found someone on your school trip to Hokkaido that you wanted to run away with, and they left immediately to meet you there,” Kise says, excited.

Shinobu nodded. “You do realise,” he said, resting his hands on his knees as he drew in deep breaths, “that they already knew what you lot were planning?” The stricken looks on their faces, especially Kuroko’s, made Shinobu start laughing all over again. “They’re probably having the last laugh now.”

“Kise, you owe me money,” Midorima says, standing up and dusting his pants. “I told you we wouldn’t have needed to change all the clocks and calendars to facilitate this farce.”

At this Shinobu stalls in his laughter, staring wide-eyed at the green giant. “What?”

“Hmm?” The doctor turns to him. “We changed the date and time to reflect a day later.”

Horro-stricken and as white as a sheet, “Yea…that last laugh…I wonder who will really have it?” He mumbles to himself. “Do they even know they’ve missed their flight I wonder?”

Kuroko smiles serenely from his perch, satisfied. “Oh well,” he says, standing up, “does anyone want tea?”

Shinobu shakes his head, bringing his hands to his face. So much for planning their anniversary trip.

 

* * *

 

“Dad?” Shinobu looks up, eyes blinking rapidly. “Miki told me that this house actually belongs to his great-grandpa.”

Frowning, he wonders what to say. “Well…that’s technically true. When Miki’s great grandpa died, Miki’s grandpa asked your grandpa to buy the house in his stead.”

“Why?” innocent blue eyes looked at Shinobu from the stone plaques they were brushing off. “Didn’t he have his own money?”

Shinobu laughed, shaking his head. He kneels back down before the family grave, smiling gently at what it reminded him of, and he turns to his child to say, “Nah, that’s not it. He allowed your grandpa to buy the house so that they could bring me into it and because of that, here you are too.”

His child bows his head, frowning innocently. “…It would have been nice if granddad and grandpa were still here.”

Shinobu smiles easily, already used to the feeling his child speaks of. The longing in his heart is overruled by his head, and he knows it is pointless to be depressed about it. “It would be, but it is also nice that they get to rest, you know.”

Looking up again, he sees the wordless question.

“Up until the last moment, your grandparents were so voracious! They lived life to its fullest, loved to their fullest, ate to their fullest, slept to their fullest.” Shinobu pats the child’s head. “They got to see you too, and that must have definitely made them the happiest, seeing you before they left this world.”

The child frowns. “Where do they go then?” Pointing at the grave stone, “Are they sleeping here?”

Shinobu laughs. “Yes and no. they are sleeping there, but only when we come to visit. That way they can hear every last word we say to them before we leave, and then they go off, flying in the skies of heaven.”

The child looks up at the bright morning sky, awed.

“C’mon, let’s head back,” Shinobu gathers the empty bucket in one hand and the child’s hand in the other.

The child raises its free arm toward the stone and grins wide, “Bye bye!”

Shinobu chuckles, glancing back at the family burial site. He can almost see his fathers watching as they leave, probably arguing over who their grandchild was really passing on the final greeting to. _Bye, dad, bye, pops. I miss you guys. Thanks for always being there for me and teaching me how to be a great father. I will eternally be grateful for the two of you taking me into your family, and I will eternally spend all my last days spreading what you taught me to my own family._

Shinobu shares a smile with his child. _Well, maybe not everything, if you know what I mean. God only knows your brand of stupidity was best to die off with you guys._

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** Oh finally! The last of it all. Now I can concentrate on other things not AoKagaAo. Like settling in. Or maybe the fanfic I was originally writing for this prompt, but besides the first line of dialogue, there was nothing “lasts” about it. Then I suddenly chanced upon the idea of writing their lives in a few short sentences for each incident, but…as usual, my writing tends to branch out without me realising. *sigh*


	75. Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **It seems, Daiki has found a new way to completely bring him undone.**

* * *

 

 

Daiki is looking too amused for a person such as himself, and Taiga hates finding out why the male is chuckling all by his lonesome. So he does what he knows best, calling the other’s attention.

“Help me?” He deigns to ask, even though he does not need it, and Daiki cocks his head up from the channel he is watching at a low volume. The dark-skinned guest is being courteous, and though it was an initial surprise, Taiga cannot be happier. What makes having Daiki over even better is that the younger male is always ready to answer his beck-and-call, no matter what Taiga asks of him. Though, in turn, Taiga has to do a great service, but that usually involves something they both get gratification from, so the redhead shrugs it off.

As the late afternoon turns to evening and Daiki is called by his mother (“Dai-chan, pick up some eggs for me on your way home!”), Taiga follows the other to the door, hovering at the _genkan_. The routine that is more of a habit than anything starts as soon as Daiki stuffs his feet unceremoniously into his shoes, and he would turn slightly to peck Taiga on his lips before he leaves.

Not this time, though, and Taiga is confused (if not happy) that Daiki takes the time to turn around and face him, one hand cupping his cheek and the other forcing Taiga to duck and tilt his head. Taiga hums appreciatively until in between pleased moans, Daiki slips out “Liger”.

Taiga brushes it off, _probably fumbled on the English_ , and as they separate, Daiki’s grin is unfathomably large, eyes twinkling.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, see you later, _Liger_.” Pushing at the door handle, Daiki is almost crossing the threshold before Taiga decides to correct him.

“If you’re saying Tiger in English it’s _Tiger_. Not Liger. That’s not even an ‘r’ you’re replacing.” As amused as he was, Taiga refrained from laughing out loud, knowing Daiki would huff away in embarrassment and then they would not talk for days. He hates when they get like that.

“I know that,” an easy counter, looking over his shoulder with his neck cranked back to see Taiga. “But isn’t that the term for a Lion and Tiger mix? You’re a Leo, right? And your name’s Taiga. So Liger. I thought—” Daiki continues talking but Taiga has already zoned him out, his mind replaying how Daiki says the word over and over, until he interrupts the boy.

“Say it again.”

Daiki frowns. “What… _Liger_?”

“Again,” he commands, stepping down and closer to Daiki who is watching him with a confused tilt of his mouth. “Daiki, again.”

Daiki does, and as he murmurs in confusion the word ‘Liger’, the coiling Taiga feels in his loins heat up and spreads. He grabs Daiki and forces a kiss on parted lips, soon taking over the fierce passionate lip lock.

Panting as they pull apart, Daiki’s eyebrows are raised, “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” Taiga dismisses, turning about as he pushes Daiki out his door. Daiki stumbles, sputtering at the change of moods. “Bye, take care. Text me when you reach,” he says on automatic, waiting for Daiki to leave so that he can take care of his rising problem. Soon, Daiki too will notice and all hell will break loose.

Daiki allows the door to fall close, but just before it completely shuts, a dark hand grips it ajar, and he murmurs, “Liger?”

The deep gurgling sound of the name makes Taiga buckle forward in surprise, looking back at his smirking boyfriend.

“…Do you think you’ll need help with that?”

Taiga stays silent, assessing as Daiki refused to move a millimetre front or back.

“…Call your mother first,” he simply replies, and Daiki grins, stepping back in, dropping his bag unconcerned onto the floor and makes his way to Taiga. “Such a douche,” Taiga mumbles as Daiki starts grabbing at his clothes, pulling it off. Over a firm shoulder, Taiga watches the door close softly, the click loud in the otherwise silent loft, sharp in between clacking teeth and wet kissing noises. “Why didn’t you just leave? I could have finished this and gone to bed.”

Daiki huffs out a chuckle, spread between a kiss, a nip and a tug. “Don’t worry; that’s where we’re heading… _Liger_.”

Taiga groans.

It seems, Daiki has found a new way to completely bring him undone.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** A quick, five-minute write up! I was thinking of randomly doing pieces as often as I can, since writing is usually my go-to stress reliever (I’m always looking for a way to escape my reality, and this is just so easy to fall into), and who exactly benefits from this, huh? ;)

~~And no, I don't know why I thought of this. Maybe it has something to do with Suwabe Junichi's voice. Think of Aomine's deep timber and there you have it, my problems stem from that ;_;~~

 

 


	76. Don't Bite If You Can't Chew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **You would think he had an easy time, but people just never got how much effort he put into it. _Kagami was a busy man indeed._**

 

**Warning(s):** Mean main character. _The italics are there for a  reason!!!!!_ No more giving away things!! *runs away*

* * *

 

"I don't bite," the bartender said, running a pink flexible tongue along his teeth, glinting brightly from inside his mouth against razor sharp edges. The smirk was daunting and Kagami drew back despite the bar top separating them.

"Ass," was the only thing Kagami could let out, cheek twitching, bringing the newly poured drink to his lips. With a wary eye, he watched the coloured hair male lick his lips, creating a shine in the wake of that flexible muscle; the man was handsome in a devilish sort of way, and probably really good with his mouth, but the chill forming at the base of his spine kept Kagami rooted to the edge of his barstool, fingers curled tightly around the tumbler his drink came in.

Swiftly, before he could blink, an arm draped across his shoulders, tight grip, and as Kagami turned to demand leeway, an unforgiving pair of lips swooped down and captured his own. Rough and messy, forcefully shoving a hot tongue in his mouth while teeth that might not seem sharp grazed his slightly chapped lips as Kagami was kissed. The harsh nip as the man who assaulted him moved away caused the thin skin at the corner of his mouth to tear. Kagami frowned, licking his cut lip as his sight was gradually returned to face the bartender, the unforgiving half-embrace still holding onto him, and he said, "Yea, but he does."

The bartender gulps at the glare one Aomine Daiki sends him under intensely furrowed eyebrows, mouth hitched downwards into a grimace.

Kagami leaves the bar, an amused smile tugging his lips even as Aomine releases his shoulder to grasp his elbow in a vice grip. Chuckling, Kagami leans into Aomine's ear, voice husky as he muses, "How'd being in charge feel?"

Aomine sneers, jerking his head away, not looking at Kagami, but the hue colouring his face speaks volumes of what the other does not want to put into words.  

Kagami peers, reversing the grip on his elbow to grabbing Aomine around the waist, reeling him the small distance left in between. "Oh well, I guess this means you deserve a reward?" Aomine shivers in Kagami's embrace, eyes darting towards the restrooms in anticipation. "Such a needy little slut," Kagami murmurs but does not stop Aomine from dragging him towards the destination in sight.  

After all, Aomine did show he wanted to be rewarded for claiming him for himself. And if he knew any better, pushing Aomine to his knees in some decrepit toilet stall was just what the other craved right about now.  

Kagami could still feel the eyes of the bartender follow him.

Maybe he would give that man a reward too.

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Notes:** I forgot I had this. Usually people say to check your pockets for change and you’ll be surprised. I check my cloud storage and find these. XD


	77. Way to a Man’s Heart (If He wasn’t Such a Boy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **It takes something so simple to realise you don’t want to deny it.**

 

* * *

 

 

The first time Aomine visits Kagami—“I heard you busted your ankle, serves you right!” Aomine had childishly crowed on hearing from Kise who heard it from Momoi who heard it from Kuroko who had witnessed the spectacular debacle of Kagami running through the woods when a wild boar charged at him during training camp—the redhead glares at him and tells him if he wants to be comfortable and treated like a guest, to not be.

“I ain’t getting up for you again,” he had snapped in spite, settling down in his mountain of cushions and icepack readjusted on his ankle to speed up healing. Three weeks, the doctor said, before he could put weight on it, and then who knows how long before he can actually play again? _Interhigh was starting up, damnit!_

Aomine had shrugged, deposited the care package forced on him—and though he hated he was only there as a delivery boy—decided to make himself comfortable. He had not travelled so far just to head on back, anyway, and if Kagami was being an ass to him, he needed to return the favour.

He rummaged through the amazingly stocked fridge, pulled put random produce and excitedly, made himself a sandwich.

“What are you doing?” Kagami’s voice came too close and too quiet for comfort, and Aomine did not jump out of his skin.

“You told me to help myself,” he explained, taking the knife to one edge of the sandwich and slicing it through.

Kagami frowned at Aomine’s head, as though that would help him understand why his head was hurting more than his leg at the moment. “No, I didn’t tell you to eat my food, you ass, but besides that…what are you doing?” Aomine glanced behind, only to confusedly train his eyes to where Kagami was staring. At his sandwich.

“…want some?” Aomine asked, quirking his eyebrow.

Another scowl informed him, _no_ , Kagami did not appreciate nice gestures. _Sucks to be him_ , Aomine thought, going to the third side.

“I’m talking about the sandwich. Why are you cutting off the sides?”

Aomine halted in action, jerkily turning back once again. “…because I don’t eat the sides?” _what is wrong with this doofus?! Is he blind?! Did he hit his head—oh my god! He hit his head too, didn’t he?! That shitty Kise, always missing out these details!!_ While Aomine scrambled around in his brain computing what he should do if Kagami had really done a number to himself besides the ankle, Kagami was aghast.

“What a waste!” he roared, his voice unnecessarily echoing in the kitchen and in Aomine’s head, pushing away out all his concerns.

Aomine starts, floundering as Kagami pushes him away to chop off the last side, and gallantly collects all the scraps into a zip lock bag, the image making Aomine feel offended; he was not whisking away a damsel for Kagami to come on his white horse at her distress!

Kagami shoves his sandwich that was neatly placed on a plate for him into his chest and was irately told to eat at a table. “Don’t throw crumbs around my place,” he was ordered.

Aomine scowled, following, deciding to infringe upon Kagami from that day on just because. He would teach the redhead to order him around.

 

* * *

 

By the third week, when Kagami was walking around with less of a slump and more of an energetic upbeat rhythm—he was still not skipping in fear Nigou was waiting around the corner to pounce on him; Aida-kantoku was not having another blunder this time around—and Aomine casually waited for his mid-afternoon snack by way of a large sandwich, courtesy of the not-scowling-anymore Kagami.

However, when it was time for tea—Aomine just wanted to annoy the redhead, and Kagami knew that, but still for all, would offer the blue haired male the drink—Kagami brandished a plate of sandwich sides. Toasted sandwich sides.

“What the hell is this?” Aomine asked, poking at them, one hand curled around the handle of his mug in which Kagami had poured black tea in today. The soothing aroma of the tea and the freshly toasted sides were warring at him even as Kagami gave him a look.

“Exactly what it is.” Kagami climbed over his crossed legs (no matter how many times he told Aomine to keep his feet off the table, the boy never listened, and Kagami had too much pride to push those offending limbs away. If Aomine wanted Kagami to ask him to move them, he had another thing coming) and seated himself on the other end of the couch, reaching over for a few of the toasted sides.

Staring at it was not changing what it was, Aomine decided, and hesitantly, picked one up. he crunched through the first piece easily enough, his ahnd automatically going for the next.

Eyes wide and round, he turns to Kagami who looks back with a blasé expression. “Oh my god,” he enthuses, “this is so good! What the hell?!” Aomine scarfs more down, the only thing gentle about his demeanour is when he sips the tea, the calm atmosphere enveloping him warmly. Sitting beside Kagami, Aomine feels content. “What did you do to them?”

“Its love,” Kagami distractedly answers, gulping down his tea unawares. It takes him a second—and Aomine choking on his toast—for him to snap back to scowl and deny, “I meant, I put love into the—er, no, I mean—!” Kagami turns read around the ears and cheeks, and through watering eyes Aomine peeks up at Kagami’s pursed lips and flushed appearance.

For some reason, he too cannot find the words to deny how it felt to hear Kagami say that.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s End Notes:** Eh, completely random, but I’m missing home. My mother, for huge family &friends picnics, would make these chutney sandwiches and cut up the sides for those fussy people. I guess she was totally taken up with Jesus’ example of collecting the scraps of leftover food, and we would have a tonne of sandwich sides just lying there. So one day at tea time, she toasted a huge batch for the family and now… years later, I’m a little gleeful shit, who’s sending my mother a running commentary via pictures of me killing my dorm microwave (‘cause I ain’t no have a toaster!!), doing the same.

All I get back is: “Do you need me to send money, baby? Are you not eating enough?”

*smacks face* No mother, I just miss you. Bye now. OTL


	78. You Can Cry On My Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 16:  
>  “You Can Cry On My Shoulder”**  
> Is Not An Invitation; It’s A Lifetime Privilege.

* * *

 

 

Kagami learns the hard way that while Aomine can easily express his emotions, he cannot show Kagami his utterly devastated ones, crying out more “Don’t look at me!” phrases than Kagami has ever heard a man scream out; he does not budge, standing firm and strong, reaching out his hand to touch Aomine who only viciously slaps it away (“I told you, don’t touch me! Don’t look at me! Go away!”), and Kagami for the life of him does not know how to tell Aomine _it’s okay, Ao, everything is okay_ , and brazenly—the way only he knows how—Kagami grabs hold of Aomine and embraces him tightly to his chest: Aomine continues to curse him, but his tears are still falling.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** Eh, I have so many male friends who do this! They hate showing weakness especially to people they care about, but when it gets too hard, they’re too stubborn! Just take my hug, damn it!! *sniffles angrily*

 

And I think we should have more punctuation to use. I'm running out of them ;_;


	79. Played

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Where Ryōta realises that he really has the short end of the stick, every single time.**  
>  Introducing: _Kise Ryōta_  
>  [Triple Drabble.]

* * *

 

 

Kise Ryōta is having a hard time in summer, coming up with ways and means to get out of photo-shoots so that he has more time for basketball practices, especially now that Kasamatsu-senpai is leaving the club (he is already having a mental breakdown thinking about it, so he refuses to focus too much on it). It is for the same reason he has manhandled Aominecchi to his agency, hoping that showing his manager how horribly annoyed Aominecchi was at being there—“We hardly get to spend time together anymore with my modelling all the time, and he’s such a lonely boyfriend-ssu!”—not knowing that his manager was a closet _fujoshi_. They end up in an impromptu portfolio shoot which is mysteriously published in the papers the next day, all the while Aominecchi remaining tight-lipped and stiff about being stretched this way and that, powered here and there, gelled hair styled up and to the side, so much that Ryōta is half amazed at the perseverance, and honoured that he had such a good friend as the dark-skinned male.

However, Ryōta honestly does not deserve the black eye he gets from a furiously livid Kagamicchi who is trotting around a secretly smug Aominecchi by the elbow.

“Don’t use him for a scapegoat, teme-Kise,” Kagamicchi snarls at him, and Ryōta is shuddering at the dark look he gets from the normally mildly exasperated redhead. Ryōta can hear the words without it being spoken, but he cannot stand how Aominecchi is enjoying this thoroughly for someone in deeper shit than Ryōta was.

_What is his deal?_ Ryōta wonders, and before he can voice it out, he watches as Aominecchi trembles in obvious delight when Kagamicchi tugs possessively at his arm, ordering him to follow along.

Not like Aominecchi was anything but eager.

“That bastard,” Ryōta mumbles, eyes narrowing further, “he played me!”

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** I love Kise. I think he was made for Author’s like me to play with. Especially in AoKagaAo relations. But even then, I still love that blonde fella. He can be so intuitive! 


	80. He's Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences - Take 17:**  
>  “He’s Mine”  
> Does Not Even Begin To Describe What They Have.

* * *

 

 

Aomine hardly bats his eyelids at the ball-and-chain Himuro seems to like dangling at him from afar, slyly telling him to be on his toes because Kagami is more attached to his _oniisan_ than to a ruffian who only knows how to insult Kagami—Aomine does not waste time telling him that at night, when he’s holding onto Kagami, it is Aomine’s name he is calling out, _begging_ , _sobbing_ , and in the day, it is Aomine whom he runs to when he needs, not ‘Himuro The Brother’, but ‘Aomine The Boyfriend’—that symbol of the two returnees’ relationship is palpable, he will give it that, but Kagami and Aomine’s is on a whole other level where they do not need something tangible when they both can feel it at all times, pulsing just under their skin.

 

 

* * *

**Author's Note:** Er...I need a new hobby. OTL.

 


	81. Believe in Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"Don’t go where I can’t follow.”**

In class, we had the whole “Who would you tell this to and why?” Round Robin thing, and while I can rattle aimless whatever comes to my head (trust me, that’s relatively easy to do), this time, the teacher passed on an envelope where we picked little chits of paper that had a “prompt” for us to talk about. Wanna guess what I had?

**Prompt _: “Don’t go where I can’t follow”._**

How sadistic can the teacher get?!

Either way, I took the challenge for what it was.

* * *

 

 

The sun is bright, far up in the cloudless sky, and the soft breeze on their skin soothes frazzled nerves. Or so they were supposed to.

A tug on his t-shirt from behind makes him turn to face the other, teary faced and mouth drawn further than the usual scowl.

“Hey,” he says. The one in front pauses, concerned. Things were fine just a few seconds ago until they left the rental house. “Promise me something?”

Taiga takes in a deep, sharp breath, eyes cautious. “What is it? You know I’ll do anything.”

Taking the confirmation to heart, the scowl eases. “Don’t go where I can’t follow,” Daiki says, soft and sad, tugging again at the material.

And Taiga laughs, loud and long; people are turning to face them, surprised at the outburst before they look away—there is a scary cloud hanging over the darker skinned male. “Oh my God! You’re hilarious!”

“Hey,” Daiki tried to desist him from speaking, balling his hand into the shirt, increasing the intensity of his jerks.

“I can’t believe you said that!”

“Hey!” Daiki wants to shove his free fist into the guffawing redhead’s mouth, sure that the action will shut the boy up.

“I’m just going to surf a bit,” Taiga says, calming down much too slowly for Daiki, “and then I’ll be at the _shallower side_  for you, my princess.” The smirk was not needed either.

Daiki snatches his hand back, annoyed, and grumpily starts to move away from the big-headed Taiga. Instead, the grinning redhead grabs hold of a retreating hand, bringing it to his lips, and kisses the balled knuckles. Daiki burns, clearly not from the hot sun, and as he tries to dislodge the hold on his hand, Taiga is still grinning at him, bright surf board propped to the side.

“If you still insist for me not to leave you…” Taiga starts, but Daiki does not want to hear any more teasing comments from him, but the grip on his hand remains firm and true, “You can always learn to surf with me.”

Daiki halts, catching Taiga’s shimmering eyes from both mirth and joy, the idea of sharing this experience filling his chest. He can hear his heart beat loud and clear, all the way up to his head, and Daiki almost feels as though he is floating.

“…Really?”

Taiga nods, and when Daiki hesitates to either deny or agree, the redhead leads the way back to the rental house.

“Oh man!” Taiga crowed, Daiki watching red hair spiral in different directions with the sway of the breeze, beach sounds slowly coming back to him, “This is going to be so much fun!”

Daiki’s hand tingles in Taiga’s hold. He is not so sure about it being ‘fun’ if not more ‘torturous’.

Deciding to be a little shit, though, Daiki groused, “Should I even trust my life into your hands?!”

Taiga throws another large smile over his shoulder, utterly happy, “Believe in me!” is his cheeky reply.

 

 

* * *

**Author’s Note:** Eh, yea, so my answer to the question was funny. The teacher obviously wanted to go down the dark and dreary path (I write enough of angst and lovelorn things,  _thankyouverymuch_ !) so I answered, “To everyone, anywhere with flowers because my allergies are cropping up!” XD (lame I know, but I’m not gonna spend five minutes explaining to them the logistics of me wasting precious breath on people who could hardly care about my answer!)

Truthfully enough, I was sneezing all during class, too. :(


	82. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Decisions are what you make out of them. This soldier wishes his sanity had taken just a bit longer before it broke.**  
> 

**Warning(s):** Due to the prompt eventually chosen—I love historical settings!!—there is the possibility that I will be hated at the end of reading this. It is all vague and supposition!!

* * *

 

 

The soldier moves carefully in the dark, not making a wee sound despite there being no one in the dark, dank corridors. He reaches a cell by memory—he has been here countless of times over the course of the weeks the prisoner behind the cold bars of steel had been hung up by his arms, dangling, toes barely grazing the stone icy floors—and he unflinchingly rattles the padlock. He glances behind him, nonetheless, and with a firm twist of his wrist, the padlock clunks open. It does not take more than a tug away from his body to pull the prison door open.

Scampering in with soft footfalls, he is beside the moaning man, awaked by the noises of the lock and the door opening. Gone were the pleas of “No more, please, no more” and now, lidded eyes hold a bronzed ember that lights a spark deep in the pit of the soldier. With a tender graze of his knuckles against a torn cheekbone, dried blood spatters rough on once smooth, tanned skin, the soldier leans into the space of the hanging prisoner.

“I’ll let you down slowly,” he informs. The tired body jerks, chains jangling in the quiet stone-walled enclosure, surprised. The prisoner has never left the chains that hang him off his feet, after all. “And I’ll clean you up.”

Now swollen eyes with dark bangs flutter forcefully open, dark matted lashes dragging up and down, and it is almost like a dance that captures him entranced, before he understands the severity of his thoughts and his current actions; he has very little time if he wants to do this properly.

Gentle touches the captive has never felt soothes the aches in his face and neck, down one arm to his fingertips, and then the other. He cannot forget the lingering touches in his palms, tickling, trailing. The soldier washes the rag again, from the canteen of water he carries at his hip, and soothingly rubs it down his fatigued legs and toes, this time not lingering, and travels quickly to his back. Here, more attention and care is taken, nimble calloused fingertips prodding softly on top of the rag that dabs at each welt, old and new, healed and gaping open.

He moans under the touches, fleeting as they are, jerking away from them, falling face forward. A strong grip he recognises catches him before he meets a painful descent. The hand on his wrist is hot in the cold prison, clammy in the bereft of moisture place, and he does not realise he is gaping his mouth in anticipation. “…water…” barely is breathed out.

“Ah, wait,” the words are whispered, but they are strong and fierce, at odds with the gentle manoeuvring of the body, until the prison is lying against strong thighs for support. The canteen sloshes before the open mouth, and soon, cool, blessed, sweet-tasting water is trickling down a parched throat. The canteen is taken away too soon; a battered arm tries to reach for it, but the hand holding the treasure is too far away. “No, you’ll choke. Small sips,” the prisoner is instructed, and mercifully, the water returns.

A few minutes of the stop-and-wait procedure, and then the soldier is clanking away at the chains, kicking them far away from their feet where they fall off the prisoner. Darkened eyes, more to their requirement than due to the shadows of the dungeon, are darting around, watching.

“Come on, you’ll be taken out of here through the kitchens. Hurry,” the soldier starts to drag the gangly prisoner when he refuses to budge, the body light after the weeks of maltreatment. The soldier hates to remember why this is so, one of the main reasons the captive is like this was because of him.

And to think, weeks prior to this, he had been so proud of himself.

But the prisoner is proving to be difficult.

“…what about you?” He asks, in tones lighter than a whisper, breath white and misty, nose red in the coldness seeping through the gaps of the stone blocks. The soldier starts, glancing over, not expecting concern for his wellbeing.

“Why do you care?” He asks, curious, eyebrows drawn, mouth furrowed. “Why do you care?”

The prisoner looks up, eyes so, so, so bright. They shine like marbles, in colours of embers, large and hot, deep and instated, sight never leaving his.

“I’ll still be here,” he decides to end, turning back to the way out, wanting to rush and get this over with, because he knows what will come in a few hours.

But the prisoner does it again, pulling back, pulling away, slipping out of the gentle firm grip he has. A frustrated growl curls in his chest, wanting to burst out, but dies when he turns heavy eyes at the prisoner…who is back in his cell, pushing the door close.

“Wha- what,” he rushes back, grabbing the bars, now being the one on the pulling side, eyes rounded, “are you doing?!”

The prisoner shakes shaggy hair. “No, I will not leave.”

This time, the soldier does growl, low, deep, angry. _This was not happening_. “This isn’t the time for you to play prince.”

The prisoner shakes his head again, this time dropping it to the bars, resting his forehead against the cold metal. Hair that used to be soft, smelling of myrrh and incense, is now ratty, brushing against white-tipped knuckles, like snow peaks of the mountain range. Shaking fingers graze those knuckles, dusting, and slowly, he watches as the prisoner drapes the fingers over his own, clutching it with all that he can. It was not much, but he could still feel it. The ball that had been non-existent for so long is now heavy in the pit of his stomach; he has already been able to swallow the lusciously moist meats and the deliciously dry wines.

“Really,” his voice drops unnecessarily; there is still no one around them, listening in. he brings his face close to the fingers atop his, lips lightly touching, gentle, like angel kisses on eyelids that he cannot move forward to reach. The ball in his stomach has grown claws and they are ripping at the lining from within. “You really are an idiot, Prince,” he then kisses the fingers, one at a time, then reverses the hold so that he was clutching the prisoner’s. He hoped his body’s warmth retained itself for a bit longer so that the prisoner could benefit from it.

A soft sound, like a forgotten laugh, wisps in the space between them. “Yea, I know…you keep telling me that.”

The soldier does not feel better about that. “You’re going to die if you stay here. Your brother will kill you.”

Chapped lips he is not expecting are on his then, as though the only way he knew to stop the soldier from speaking. “If I leave, my brother will kill you.”

An unknown emotion surges through his veins, both cold and hot, both clawing to rip out from his skin and soar alive before him. Instead, he shoves his arms through the bars and wraps strong arms across a shaking, shivering back.

“I’m sorry,” he pleads, wondering if an apology or the acceptance of such a late one will make these feeling go away.

The sound again—chuckling maybe, so different from those beautiful smiles that cinched at the eyes, that took up half the stupid face, and the soldier misses them already, and—the prisoner reaches out to return the embrace, the impeding bars not allowing more than their arms to touch the backs.

“What for?” the voice asks, a shadow of its former self, a voice that will forever haunt him if daybreak is allowed to come. He almost wishes the gods would answer, would answer a worthless man’s plea like his, to not let daybreak ever come. “I thought you enjoyed this role-play?”

He wants to shout, to scream, to fight off the arms that now feel like lead. If he ever survives the newly crowned King’s severe reprimands, he will forever remember this moment like a badly reprinted telegram. “This isn’t funny!” he manages, gripping tight. The arms at his back cannot do the same but they twitch against his armoured vest. “You are not going to see another day!”

“…I know,” the words are barely breathed. “So smile for me, my beloved knight,” said that sweet mouth that he has coveted to near insanity, leading to the obvious trodden path before him; pining and pining and pining has destroyed something so sweet that he cannot fulfil his master—no, his prisoner’s—request, tilting forward instead for a lip lock, holding that sweet mouth with his filthy, decaying, diseased one. He is the epitome of what a knight should not be but here, this senseless man is calling him that, letting himself be kissed by this ugly, wretched thing, and still, _oh he was still_ holding onto him.

“I cannot smile for you,” he whispers tiny, tiny, like a child.

“It is all well,” he is comforted, “It is all well.”

Thin streams of yellow and white streak the skies outside.

He does not want to leave this man, the rightful King to the throne.

They slide to their knees, as one, and the soldier prepares himself to be beheaded with the royalty that he himself had stripped off all rank.

He just prays and wishes that the next time they are born, these cold bars are not there, in between them.

He reaches forward again; lids fluttering close when he sees the soft stretch of flesh across the other male’s face, and captures the man one last time.

The clanking of boots and armour are but a distant sound to them.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** Forgive me for the sad feels!!! OTL.


	83. Brother from Another Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Before Daiki even manages to call Kagami by his given name, he has to meet the only other male in his life that has had years on him doing so.**  
>  Introducing: _Himuro Tatsuya_  
> 

[orenjinoir](http://archiveofourown.org/users/orenjinoir/pseuds/orenjinoir) asked “I like the idea about Himuro /intentionaly/ teasing Aomine cuz he has a dangling thing in his neck, and Aomine kinda jealous and pouting like child omg please make it happen hihihihi”.

Well, I thought I would take longer…but yea. Here it is.

 

**Warning(s):** It feels like I should add this, but I don’t know what for. ;__;

* * *

 

 

The first time Kagami decides to introduce Himuro to Daiki, things did not go as planned.

First and foremost, Kagami was running late, a message Daiki received only after he stepped into the family restaurant a block from the subway. As he checks the simple text that reads “Late. Himuro’s already there”, Daiki does an about-turn, thinking of heading over to the government and complaining about the lack of network providers down those subway lines. If it were not for their lack of propriety, Daiki would not be running away from the newly turned twenty-year old as though his ass was on fire.

Nevertheless, he has no option but to skid to a stop when he hears his name being called. “You’re Aomine Daiki-kun, right?”

Daiki twitches all over, body shivering as he slowly looks around at the youth who comes to greet him, all polite smiles and head tilts. The other does not bow, he notices, and that is just a niggling feeling at the back of his head; _these returnees…no respect!_

It is a far cry for Daiki to be thinking this since he does not offer politeness either.

“It’s nice to finally meet you face-to-face,” Himuro says. “Taiga must have already mentioned it, but my name is Himuro Tatsuya.” Daiki almost pukes into his mouth before swallow it. All the _keigo_ the other is using is grating his ears. If he bleeds and chokes and needs to see a doctor, this fool was going to pay his medical bills, Daiki vowed silently as they made their way to the table Himuro was occupying earlier. “It’s really bad,” Himuro says, conversationally, eyes slanting shut as the fake stretch of his lips extended and parted, “that the one time I can play against you, I mean, Tōō Gakuen is when I’ve already graduated and not on the team.”

Himuro daintily picks up the cup that is in front of him, half full, and sips at the dark liquid. Daiki glances briefly at it, distracting himself from saying horribly strung phrases like ‘sucks to be you’ or ‘too bad you’re an old man’ or even, _god forbid_ , ‘not like you’re worth me being subbed in’. He keeps his lips pursed, imagining colourfully highlighted positive words he used for teachers when he is on the verge of being held back, and jauntily replies, “Yes, it is indeed a shame.”

The churning in his stomach kicks up a notch and he wants Kagami to show his stupid gay face soon so they could start stuffing their faces with food and jet. He will pay for the whole bill—Kagami’s included—if the teenager arrives in the next ten seconds.

“So Daiki-kun,” _Ten, nine, ei-_ , “How are your classes going? Taiga tells me that you are having issues with the math course.”

- _seven, six-_ “Ah, no, I have problems making it to the class; it so happens to be the first class Monday, and it takes me two hours to reach the campus,” _three, two, one. You fucking idiot! Just show up already!?_ He palms the table top, the smooth surface slowly heating up and becoming damp. _I’ll count again. You better be here by then, Bakagami_. Daiki hates sitting here, with the creepy smile on par with Imayoshi right across from him. Till date, his _senpai_ would call on him and find out how he was doing—he always wanted to know if he was keeping up with both classes and practice because the next time their colleges were duking it out, Daiki could not be sitting on the bench because he pulled a muscle.

Honestly, Daiki did not want to tell him that it was not because of his lack of basketball practice; he does not think he will live it down if anyone knew the reason, so being called lazy was fine by him.

They remained silent then, even the waiting staff giving them a wide berth when crossing their table for that was how tense the atmosphere felt. Himuro would quietly drink his cup of whatever caffeinated liquid he had going there, and Daiki pretended he was admiring the fine selection of condiments sitting innocently on their table, frequently being prodded by the nervously twitching fingers.

“Taiga’s pretty late, is he not?”

There it was again, that infernal way of calling him. Daiki had yet to even think of doing so. It was one thing to tease Kagami by calling him _Tiger_ or _Tora-chan_ , but that name right there, even when he thinks about it he starts heating up. Though it was not the same for that dumb returnee of his; “Daiki, can you do spicy food?”, “Should we meet up in front of your school instead, Daiki?” or even the heart-thumping, low toned, smiling voiced, “Good night Daiki,” killed him.

“Yea,” Daiki absently remembered to answer, dark blue eyes flickering in all directions. It was probably then that he noticed that Himuro was leaning his cheek on one palm, the other hand delicately twirling the light-catching, devil incarnate, LOTR-esque accessory that has graced his life via Kagami and Himuro’s worldwide known _brother from another mother_ , member association with the grand total of two. Even as he tried to tear his sight away from that, that _cheap_ accessory, Daiki found himself unmistakably drawn to the smooth with age circumference.

“Hmm?” the rattling of the cup being filled by a shaking waitress with a watery smile makes Daiki dart his eyes down then back to the fidgeting fingers. “What’s wrong?”

Daiki flicked his eyes up.

“You look a little green,” Daiki cannot tell if the man was being insensitive or he was that naïve. “Is something the matter, Daiki-kun?” The way the elder says his name, dipping forward without letting go of the ring strained against pale creamy skin, makes Daiki want to reach over and snap the infernal thing off. It is one thing to see it on Kagami, knowing the other did not mean to rub it in his face, but it is a whole other issue with Himuro.

“Daiki-kun?” Himuro cocks his head to one side, looking concerned.

Gritting his teeth and sitting forward with the intention of lashing out, hands fisted on the surface of the table, tensed and ready for a physical confrontation he has been waiting since he knew about the other male, and a warm hand thumps itself on his nape, causal and comfortable, as though it belongs there. Instantly, the muscles in his neck and back relaxed like smooth flowing water until his shoulders slumped and he geared back against the cushioned booth, looking up into a sheepishly smiling redhead.

“Sorry, sorry,” were the simple words that released the tense knots in his stomach. Daiki grinned back, less annoyed, whiningly scowled and poked at the hard abdomen, and soon, the two were having their own moment. That is, until Himuro cleared his throat, opened his mouth and spoke something that made Daiki’s eyes widen.

“ _He’s such an adorable idiot, Taiga, so jealous of such little things,_ ” Himuro was saying. Daiki managed to catch Kagami’s name, but nothing else. And ‘little’. Internally fuming at possibly being called ‘little’ by the other, again he was tensed up.

“Tatsuya, stop trying to pick fights with that poker face of yours,” Kagami easily shot the other down, pushing at Daiki’s shoulder to force him further into the booth. Daiki complied only because he was dissatisfied _and_ Kagami was choosing to sit with him.

_Take that you sneaky-eyed bastard, wimpy girl, you!_ Daiki folded his arms across his chest.

A hooded grey-olive eye slid from Kagami to him, and an amused smile flitted through, the other eye artfully covered by that set of long bangs. “But it was so much fun, watching him squirm.”

Kagami ignored him, and apparently Daiki as well, because he picked up the menu and perused it with a predator’s sight, skimming over every detail in the printed leaflet. Gone was his attention, but that did not stop Daiki from declaring war on Himuro.

Sticking his nose high up in the air, Daiki made sure to push the bastard who cut him off on the lunch line yesterday on campus, putting Himuro on a permanent pedestal on his Hit List. If Daiki could help it, the Fellowship of the Brotherhood Ring was only going to have one member, and said member was already rattling off an order to a frozen waitress.

“You might have to repeat that slowly, Taiga,” Himuro cuts in charmingly. The girl swoons, Kagami blushes and tries to politely repeat the ginormous list he wanted for starters, and Himuro is pleasantly nodding like a Prince.

_Yep, he is so going down._

 

 

* * *

**Author's Note:**  I don’t know how else Himuro would tease Aomine. T_T

_  
_


	84. They Don't Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Daiki and Taiga spend most of their time together. There’s just this invisible block, though, this hurdle, that remains in between.**

**Warning(s):** I think I should take these out completely. I never know how to do this without giving everything away. Unresolved issues?! Yea, let’s go with that for now.

* * *

 

 

Daiki and Taiga spend most of their weekends at home. They enjoy playing basketball as much as any other, but at collegiate level, where their body is gold, they cannot overdo the playing no matter how much they itch to run their hands on the textured ball and bounce said object around. Instead, weekends go for videogames, but only after the automated safe timer has set and the TV’s sleep mode has been scheduled, otherwise they would have a repeat of the marathon last month where neither achieved any sleep and their plays were affected.

There were, after all, only so many magazines they could read in a row.

Their other roommate—Nanno Nanigashi—would sometimes join in, few moments in between where Daiki would wonder why the other was still around, and Taiga would get at the only dark skinned male in the room for being a horrible roomie.

“Don’t be like that,” Taiga finds himself repeating so often, he does not remember really having the conversation any more. “He’s a hundred times better than you are chores.”

“You’re supposed to say nicer things about him, Taiga-kun,” Daiki would drawl, playing by his lonesome as Taiga stacked up the dishes to be wiped dry; God forbid Daiki ever handled breakable items when he was held at gun point.

“…there are many nice things about him,” He ends with, despite the fact that neither of them really remember his full name until rent week came around and poor Nanchara would be wondering why the landlord kept getting his name wrong. Daiki never told on Taiga because Taiga withheld food when he did the first time; no one wants a repeat of that either.

“Yea, keep telling yourself that.” Daiki glances up after forcing himself into a corner with Solitaire, asking, “what’s his name again, Taiga-kun?”

Taiga fumes silently, “I know it’s _not_ Taniguchi.”

“Good for you!” Daiki cheers, then leads the way to the couch, setting up the consoles and making room for the snacks he is sure Taiga is going to start piling up for them. Sure enough, ten minutes later, Taiga is seated at his own console, and a gamer’s feast lies between them.

They do not touch in any way, even when they are furiously grabbing at items to stuff their mouths as they badmouth each other, the game, their friends, their personal belongs, even the furniture:

“You big dumb thing! You’re just like the fucking couch! Bulky everywhere but really, there’s no place to sit because it is so dumb and stupid and— _you fucking twat! That was my kill!!_ ”

“Shut up about the couch, you moron! At least it isn’t like that fucking lounging chair you got that breaks every time you fucking touch it! _And hell you think you’re doing?! Put that down! Put that fucking—_ urgh!!!”

They spend more time trading insults on an elementary level than they would talk about the distance that never moves and never shrinks. It stays, solid and invisible, and neither makes an effort to dismantle it, to pass it, to close it.

“Oh did you hear from Midorima?” Taiga would start, munching on the snacks they reserve especially for drinks, but they were banned from the only bar on campus, and they were still underage, so no other place would serve them alcohol. Daiki watches the piece of dried squid get decimated by Taiga, eyes never leaving the moving mouth.

“You know I don’t willingly talk to that guy. He’s too difficult to deal with,” Daiki absently remarks. He reaches forward, hand hesitating before Taiga, and the redhead stares back calmly. “I can’t imagine eating as much as you do. Did you really finish eight of those packets?”

Taiga leans towards his splayed fingers and bites down on the digits hard enough in a brief second, and nothing else. Daiki has already snatched his hand away too fast to feel anything more. They share a glowering look.

They do not touch.

“Fucking glut!” Daiki would end and Taiga would grin evilly, daring him to comment more. “Resorting to cannibalism now are you?!”

“Eat you? Fuck no! I have more taste than that!”

And Daiki, wanting to reach over and strangle the life out of him, only takes charge of one cushion and smothers the redhead instead. Taiga struggles against the object, laughing and choking on the lack of air he is forcing out himself, and pushes his forearms to block the advance. He laughs and laughs when Daiki tries to put all his strength into suffocating Taiga but to no avail.

“All that food you eat has made you so fat, you don’t even budge!” Daiki snarls over the cushion that is looking less and less like its intended fate and more like a flattening parchment.

“It’s called being strong, Dai-chan,” Taiga mocks with Momoi’s inflection in turn, “What are you going for physical education classes for, moron? Don’t compare my strength to that shit!”

Daiki smirks, a vicious twist of his lips. “But that’s all you’re going to end up, Butagami, if you can’t control your appetite now.”

Taiga manages to push Daiki off and stand up, making sure to give them room to run around. Even if they do not touch, deadly projectiles are fair game, and he very much likes not being bruised, thank you very much. Daiki is flexing his supple muscles, helpful in all his formless basketball plays, and Taiga is momentarily distracted. He bunches his own muscles to keep in check, his hands curling, and then, he turns around suddenly. Daiki pauses in his next attack—aerial flogging via the flattened cushion—and wonders if Taiga is just faking retreat before he ups and catches Daiki in surprise.

“Thanks to your stupidity, I just realised I have a paper due in two days.”

The abruptness of the conversation is not a one-time thing. Daiki can count on all his friends’ hands and their parents’ hands and their siblings’ hands how many times Taiga has suddenly stopped in this manner and without turning back to face Daiki, he would measure his strides back to his unshared room.

Daiki watches, hands twitching, arm reaching out for Taiga’s shirt sleeve only to let the material brush against his fingertips.

He does not touch Taiga.

*

Daiki and Taiga spend most of their weekdays going to all their classes because it is a requirement for the scholarship students to at least have a perfect attendance record, missed classes only on days when there are games and physicals, and try and pass their tests. What happens in between no one wants to know, but their senpai will tell them horrifying stories of pasts that could have been dealt with without the presence of their coach that on good days, reminded Taiga of Aida Riko.

Despite them being on the same Basketball team, their coach is smart not to put them on the same starting line-up. They appreciate it for what it is worth—the surprise in finding out they were scouted for the same team was horrendously funny—but there are times they wish the other was on the opposite team, duelling them.

Even here, where contact is second to none, and would be foolhardy to be evaded completely, neither makes the mistake of letting any part of their skin touch.

During practices and scrimmages, Taiga faces off with Daiki, and their team loves see the awkward but powerful dance the two power-forwards have at these occasions, wherein even their coach stops what he is doing (like traumatising late comers or instigating pure torture on those lagging), and there is a brand of silence coated with bated breath and hushed whispers as for those fifteen minutes, all the people can see are blue and red blurs as Daiki and Taiga fight for dominance over the orange ball. Neither tries to stop the other and use their body to block drives; they just try to outdo one another, slip by each one’s defence, fool the other with their fakes.

Not even one finger dares to break the unwritten rule of not making contact.

When practices end, Daiki is one of the first to saunter off to the showers, many others following. The coach would chid Taiga (“I don’t give brownie points to suck ups, Kagami; go cool off and get out of my gym!”), and Taiga would beg off some time (“Just five more minutes, coach! Besides, I would still have to wait for a shower stall to be free.” “Are you giving me lip?!” “Er?! No!!”), and after a haggled ten minutes, a short fifteen to follow in the locker room, Taiga will emerge freshly steamed and dried to see Daiki lounging against the wall on his phone. The call/text/whathehas would end immediately and Daiki would go into a long drawn expletive-filled sentence about Taiga making him wait when he was _fucking hungry like fuck_.

“That doesn’t make sense,” is always the first phrase out of Taiga’s mouth.

Daiki glares and says instead, “For that, food’s on you.”

Taiga scoffs. “Food’s always on me.” The conversation would die here and never go forth like it used to; Daiki stops saying “It’s a date then” and Taiga stops poking at Daiki with “Dates are supposed to be cute, Dai-chan; smile more, you handsome fella” because it has stopped being a comfortable rigmarole. The conversation now leaves ash on Taiga’s tongue and Daiki looks straight ahead because he knows what he will see if he looks over at Taiga.

He is the only one who can change it, but it is because of him that nothing can be done.

They eat their meals across a table that separates them, diagonal rather than parallel, so that their knees do not bump against each other.

Their acts are well thought out by now.

*

By the time they have become more comfortable about not sharing space and have moved on from the fact that they never do fist bumps—their team members think they are so weird, too—Taiga has started preparing to leave at the end of the school year. Daiki does not hear it from the horse’s mouth, so he chucks it as being jealousy-driven rumours, until Taiga sits them down (with Nanigashi of course) and informs them of the possibility of finding a new roommate.

“What?”

Nanigashi looks like he wants to disappear, and has obviously started looking for escape routes that do not involve his lack of decisiveness when it comes to having a say in the house, and Daiki does not even realise when the other male has run out of the house. Not that he cares when Taiga’s red hair shadowing his eyes is the only thing he is concentrating on.

As Taiga prepares to stand up and leave too, Daiki thumps the table they sit at, causing tremors to move up Taiga’s arm supporting him. Taiga glances briefly at Daiki, red eyes that are normally so clear, now are dark and muddy. Blurred. Taiga’s mouth too, is pressed down, firm and held. Like he is trying not to speak.

Daiki wants to reach over and pry that mouth open.

But they do not touch.

So how was he supposed to get Taiga to talk?

“I’ll let you know when I have people ready for interviews,” Taiga manages to say finally, and now within two blinks of his eyelids, Daiki sees that Taiga is already on the other side of the hall.

“Is it because I said I couldn’t like you back?” Daiki finally says after months of this disgusting foxtrot they had participated in, both trying to lead and then both trying to follow.

“No,” Taiga denies softly. “No.”

“Then what is it? Why aren’t you finishing college?!” Daiki snaps, balling his fists. _Why aren’t you staying here with me?!_

Taiga shrugs. “Even if…even if we were a _thing_ , I’d probably still make this decision.” Red muddy eyes glance over his shoulder at Daiki, who does not buy the statement. Taiga is not very good at lying, but he is very good at lying to himself. Everyone but the redhead can see that, however, so it makes Daiki chuckle humourlessly.

“Don’t kid yourself,” he rounds the table, wanting to get rid of the distance they were always putting between themselves. “Don’t be an idiot either. Stay here.”

Taiga’s shoulders bunch up.

“Don’t recklessly say things, you aho.” Taiga demands quietly. “It’s difficult as is.”

“No it isn’t,” Daiki counters, now passing the couch. Soon he will be within arm’s length of Taiga. “It’s not difficult to stay here.”

“It is,” Taiga confesses like a small child, eyes clenched tightly, hands balled into fists, shoulders shaking. The redhead does not want to see Daiki’s earnest face, especially not up close. “It is, Daiki. So difficult, it’s hard to breathe around you.”

Daiki pauses, within that self-imposed distance he himself did not realise it existed. He tries to breach it but his knees lock and bounce him back.

“What?”

Taiga need not move; laboured breathing through his burning nose, and Daiki jerks back in surprise to the tears that leak out from the corners of the tightly clenched eyelids.

“Ta-Taiga?” Daiki’s voice is unimaginably soft.

“I’m sorry,” Taiga cries, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he is continuously repeating.

Daiki goes for his shoulder but his fingers cringe away at the last second, so his fist is hanging there, precariously, with no destination. “Taiga?”

“I’m sorry I was selfish. That I selfish decided to love you,” the words are tumbling out, one after another. Daiki superimposes this image to the one, months ago, where Taiga coolly tells Daiki that he loves him even though he was _such a douche bag human being_. He wants to laugh at it now—Taiga had been too cool for school then, and now—Daiki chokes on the words he is surprised Taiga is not choking on.

“-I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I can’t stay here any more. I can’t live here knowing you’re just there, out of reach. I can’t play on the same team with you, in fear of touching you and seeing you recoil away from me,” Daiki is now immensely glad Taiga has his eyes shut to the world because he himself does not want to see the devastation in the other’s eyes when he sees how Daiki can still not touch him. “They itch, my hands. Itch and ache and move before I can stop them, and they—nhg.”

Taiga visibly swallows his next words and Daiki will never hear them from that mouth.

“You’re not at fault,” Taiga bends his head down, bleakly blinking his eyes, tired. “I just wasn’t prepared I guess.”

Daiki wonders if either of them was prepared for half the things life threw at them. His arm aches, with nowhere to go, and he is almost not surprised that his chest hurts just as much if not more. The rest of his body feels cold while his chest is burning, upwards and into his throat, into his mouth, into his nose, into his eyes. His head is boiling, steaming, and he is relived when something equally hot and cold is spreading on his burning cheeks.

Taiga glances up, mouth open, only to remain agape.

“Why are _you_ crying?” He wants to know.

Daiki tilts his head back, looking at their uselessly high ceiling, and then looks back at wide red eyes. “Because I can’t touch you.”

Taiga’s mouth curls, bringing his trembling lips inward, and he huffs out a weird choked breath, a laugh and soon he is laughing. “Yea?”

Daiki nods. “Mmhm,” he shakes the hand close to Taiga as it strains near the redhead’s ear. “See?”

Taiga’s eyes dart to the suspended arm. “I can see.”

They do not touch.

Daiki’s toes twitch on the titled floor, nervous. “Would you hit me if I said I want to?”

Taiga draws in a long breath.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I still might not be able to.”

The frankness hurts but Taiga’s smile…it burns more than what is burning Daiki from inside out. His breath is not short because Taiga’s smile took it away before he could hold it in.

Daiki has never seen that one before.

“I don’t mind,” Taiga’s voice sounds unlike his. Soft and steady, trying for careless disregard; that his heart will not be crushed and trampled upon if what Daiki says is true.

Daiki clicks his tongue, more in aggravation that Taiga does not care that he would break even more, and that even if his breaking is the end result, Daiki still wants to try.

They do not touch, but Daiki wishes he can just close those three centimetres without the fear that he is going to hate it.

Hate the feeling of touching that inviting skin, only because what Taiga is, what Taiga stood for, and what all Taiga was not, is something Daiki’s mind cannot grasp and get around. If he could, he would suction his brain out and kick it out of their small balcony window that the two basketball players can hardly stand in without touching their shoulders, and Daiki…Daiki wants to be able to share a beer without worrying that Taiga is going to lock himself up in a room in fear that he did something to Daiki without his consent. Daiki wants to be able to feel Taiga’s hot breath on his skin as Daiki forces against his defence, laughing at him for how slow he was in getting the rebound, in guarding against his drives, in—There are so many things Daiki wants to be able to do with Taiga, but the disgusting distance, this distance has to go because—

They do not even touch anymore.

No more fist bumps, no more high fives.

No elbows in the side when the other says something crass. No flicking food off plates in case the other has to feel the skin of the hand they have to hit off. No sharing water bottles even if they were dying of thirst. No answering each other’s phones and taking messages and playing hooky. No sticking out tongues at each other because that was just a bad invitation of things one could no instigate and have.

No sharing popcorn at a B-rated movie, no sleeping on the couch since neither could help them to their rooms.

No sharing the sink in the mornings when they are in a rush. Not being allowed to _fucking pee because you take such a long fucking bath, AHOmine!_ And no sharing inside jokes because that meant there being a relationship where they could talk, even if there was no need for touching.

Daiki wants all that back. He had hated when Taiga had opened his mouth, but then he had hated himself for not being able to get over the hurdle himself.

Here they stand, stuck, inert, and Taiga is waiting for Daiki to make the first move.

Heart beating a thousand miles a minute, shuddering, Daiki’s fingers stretch excruciatingly slowly.

They do not touch, but Daiki wants to change that.

Taiga waits for him to do so.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Random Trivia:** Did anyone under the “Nanno Nanigashi” or the “Nanchara” part? :P

Usually means “Mr. Nameless So-and-so”. The “Nanchara” is like the Kansai-ben version (and so completely pointless information), their roommate was from the Kansai region! X)

Okay, going now.


	85. The Scheming Mutt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Years later, he would wonder which one was really the schemer: the mutt or Daiki.**

**Author’s Note:** One of the Anonymous requests I received the other day. In case, you know. So here it is, something short and silly, with no proper progression at all!!

**Prompt request:** Finding a puppy on the road side AU.

* * *

 

Daiki is amused.

There was no other way to put it.

He was just on his merry way to the bus stop, visiting his aunt to pick up the _way too many vegetables your grandfather insists everyone in the city needs, that old fool_ only to see a whimpering little mutt on the curb, making wobbly eyes at him. Being the animal lover he is, he obviously squats down and observes the little fella, almost reaching out the pet him before a loud shriek interrupts him.

“Don’t!” the gruff voice says, “Don’t touch it! He’ll fucking bite your hand off!”

Before Daiki can register it, the mutt starts to bark at the voice, once cute face now snarling and drooling, snapping it’s little teeth at the other male. Daiki is a bit stunned, and he rears to put some distance between the clearly crazy dog and himself, when the mutt whimpers and curls into himself, looking at Daiki forlornly.

There is a silence that confuses the involved people.

“…what just happened?” He asks aloud because honestly, what was that?

“See? That dog is fucking mental!” Daiki turns his head to see a towering redhead who is looking over at Daiki and the mutt while his back slides across the wall of the houses lining the street. His earlier confusion flies out of his mental window and he is now trying hard not to laugh at the redhead. He fails.

Daiki’s chest hurts too much to really notice that the redhead is now blushing as loud as his hair colour, and only when Daiki glances back up, wiping his tearing eye, he see this big lug being adorable. This is the first time he likens the thoughts towards a male, looking around the same age as him. The idea should repulse him, make him feel sick, but for some reason, Daiki can easily shrug off the gender without a care. Maybe it was because the other male was the same brand as he was, strong, powerful—Daiki’s thoughts stop short. At the moment, what he was sensing and what he sees conflicts, and he has to start laughing again.

“I’m sorry,” but the other teen is glaring at him and the mutt he is crouched near, “but this is hilarious.” Daiki jerks a thumb at the mutt who is now sniffing her sandled feet. “What did you do to the mutt?”

“I didn’t do anything!” The redhead snarls, shoulders high up to his red ears. He is both embarrassed and scared, and Daiki is finding it difficult to multitask and prioritise over laughing his ass off, keeping his eye on the mutt closing in on him, and the redhead inching away against the wall.

“But he’s totally fine with me?” Daiki chokes out between lapses of laughter. He receives another glare for his opinion, and his mouth cannot stop twitching.

“Maybe it’s because it can sense how the two of you are alike,” he responds with a snide, “You know, both of you being utter bastards.”

Daiki scowls. “I can tell your sunshine attitude didn’t get him agitated, alright.” The mutt now pants happily, and feeling safe enough, Daiki pets the head. “See, he’s perfectly fine.”

“Don’t you ‘ _hora’_ me!” The redhead snarls in an almost high pitch, close enough to be a girl’s screech than anything else. Daiki smiles down at the mutt, hiding who he really was being amused with. The mutt is cute, and Daiki is not ashamed to think so.

“It’s cute, is it a stray?” Daiki asks the redhead who obviously knows it.

“I don’t know,” comes the quick and frank response.

Daiki cocks an eyebrow at him. “Hah?”

“I don’t know,” is repeated. One large hand comes up to the back of his neck and rubbing his nape, the redhead mumbles out something about the mutt following him from streets over to the point the redhead is lost.

“He’s been following you?”

The redhead nodded.

Daiki glanced down at the mutt happily licking Daiki’s fingers, nosing his knuckles and coaxing the lax digits into petting him. Daiki follows on, thinking. “There could be several reasons.”

“Like what?”

“Like…he’s following you home?” The redhead shivers in fear. “I mean, like you live close to his place or something?”

Redhead shrugs. “Don’t know. Never seen him before.”

“But he’s following you, right?”

“Yea, for the past two hours!” Daiki watches the agitated male shake fisted hands near his thighs. He takes in the casual set of clothes the male has on, the open-sandals, the cargo pants, the tank top under a loose shirt. He has a plain bag weighing down on his shoulder that catches Daiki’s attention.

“Are you carrying food?”

Dark red eyes widen and his mouth slowly moves. “Yea…” He hesitates, and then rummages one hand into the bag and pulls out an object that Daiki recognises from Maji Burger. “Cheeseburgers,” the redhead says, and as though understands what Daiki will say next, he edges closer, eyes trained on the dog rather than Daiki’s hand that stretches out to help bridge the gap he is sure the other will not want to enter.

Daiki’s fingers brush the redhead’s and he takes the sandwich carefully. The mutt is excited, wagging his tail and his jaws are watering, eyes round and sparkling at the promise of food.

“Hey,” Daiki calls out.

“What?”

“Start moving back and away, and then go down street. If you want the station, it’s on the right, but the main road further on the left. You got that?”

The redhead remains silent for a second, and Daiki looks up to snap him into focus, but red eyes are staring straight at him. He suddenly has to stop and get his heart to restart; the look pierced his chest and his lungs, and each mouthful of air feels as though it was leaking out.

“Are you heading to the station?” The other decides to ask. Daiki wants to move quickly from here, so that the mutt does not follow either of them after feeding, and hopefully find someone else to take care of him, but the redhead was straggling.

“Yes I am, now go!” Daiki shoos the redhead away, and it took another second for the male to do as told.

Daiki glanced down at the whining mutt, and he pacifies it, breaking pieces of the sandwich, hoping he was giving the other male some time to disappear. “Here you go, come on, eat this.” Daiki backtracks and tries to trick the mutt by dropping the sectioned pieces in the opposite direction they were taking, and soon, Daiki is clumsily trekking away and towards the right where the station is. He is then, surprised, that the redhead is leaning against the wall of the corner, and they meet eyes as Daiki comes closer.

“I thought I told you to disappear.”

“But then I wouldn’t be able to thank you,” the redhead says. He reaches into the bag again and pulls out more burgers. Daiki laughs.

“What is that, a magic bag?”

The redhead scowls. “No. here you go. I don’t have anything else on me, and what money I had left today, I bought the burgers with.” Before Daiki can say he does not take food from strangers, the redhead is forging on, “My name’s Kagami Taiga, by the way. And thanks for that. With the dog. Yea.”

Daiki stops his hand from waving the food off, instead reaching further than he has to, grabbing hold of the wrist extended toward him. The blush on the other’s face intensifies and Daiki just wants to rile him up further. He does not think he will ever get another chance, so he might as well go full throttle. But just in case…

“Hey Kagami Taiga. I’m Aomine Daiki.” His mouth stretches fully into a smile he does not think anyone else has seen in a while. “Can I have your number?”

Kagami sputters, confused probably at the sequence of events, and he would probably have said so if it were not the chirp barking of the mutt that echoed seemingly endlessly from behind Daiki. Daiki did not need to turn and see which side the dog was running after; this is what happens when you feed strays, after all.

“I’ll give you whatever, just, just stop that mutt!!” As Kagami tries to back away from the potentially rampant dog, Daiki jerks the redhead into his personal bubble and smirks.

“Don’t forget what you just said,” he informs him, and pecking Kagami’s lips, he quickly rips off the wrapper of the burgers and chucks it far from them. The mutt, realising it was food flying above its little head, about turns and follows it, now unconcerned of the two boys. “C’mon!”

And grabbing Kagami’s hand, Daiki pulls the teenager along with him to adventures better left to the imagination. Who knew how far he would take that thoughtless invitation of one flustered Kagami Taiga? Only Daiki knew.

* * *

 

Bonus:

The mutt wags its tail, looking around, tongue hanging out as it watched the numerous people in the congested place. There was no room to really sit there, and everything was jostling around the little animal, but the mutt did not care. The familiar smell it had followed onto this moving contraption was within sight, and it can now tell the boy it has been following would be worthwhile. By the end of the day, it knows it has found its new food source, whether it was warranted or not, however, it does not care.

 

 

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry, this was just so... OTL. 

Reviews? Please? (It doesn't even have to be on this one!! T_T)


	86. The Little Things (Add Up)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Their anniversary is coming up. Taiga is a little hesitant to open the door and find out what is waiting for him.**

**Author’s Note:**  I’m up too early for Monday. And my eye allergies started up, too. After the drops, things are so blurry. But yes…woke up too early for this shit.

It should be a crime or something. Or detention/suspension from school if you wake up before a certain time.

It leaves me with nothing to do!!

Oh, but here’s something small. And I think, cute.

* * *

 

 

There were no words to describe how weird Daiki was acting, and usually that meant he was too excited to stay still, like a child trying to keep a secret but failing. Miserably. Taiga appreciated the sentiment, the emotions behind the actions, the actions behind the reasons, the reasons behind his attitude. It would have been sad if it was not so funny.

Deciding to end things before Daiki got hurt—again, like the man could not do anything if he was not trying to be extravagant, and Taiga can only remember coming home one Christmas Eve to find Daiki trying to put up a tree that should  _not have been in the house_ , only to find said man under it, stuck—and was surprised at the frustrated tears streaming down his face.

“I can’t think of anything,” Daiki confesses.

“Hm?” Taiga blinks.

“I wanted to do something different for our anniversary, and it feels like I’ve either done everything or I can’t do it because of this!” Daiki spits out vehemently as he gestures angrily at the sling across his torso, holding his hand in place. “What a time to dislocate a shoulder!!”

Taiga smiles, charmed despite his partner being injured, and placates the man with, “Maybe this time ‘round, you can leave things up to me?” He knows he is being cheeky, and he knows how much pride Daiki has, and he knows how much being the ‘pants’ of their relationship meant to the other. Taiga did not care who led and who followed; he just wanted the other to always be there with him. He wanted to wake up to Daiki’s stomach growling, he wanted to have loud exclamations via recorded voice notes during lunch, he wanted ‘ _promise I’ll try and make it for dinner! But don’t wait up for me if I don’t get back, okay?!’_  and he wanted to breathe Daiki in when he slept at night.

Not having something special for their anniversary…he can do without that. But if Daiki was not around…

Daiki blushes, looking away with a pout he does not know he makes so often, Taiga has teeth grooves in his cheeks from holding back his laughter so often. The first time he went on his knees laughing, he had remained on them gasping from the punch to his side, too.

“…I guess,” Daiki finally mumbles.

Taiga smiles, large and beatific. Really, if only Daiki realised that these little things are what Taiga truly wants from him, not fancy dinner dates, expensive accessories, luxurious vacation spots.

Maybe if he asks again, Daiki will wear lingerie tonight, too.

Taiga can hope, right?

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed this :)


	87. She wasn't Cindertaiga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **She watches because she cannot have, and she wonders if only she had been given a chance…would that be her?**  
>  Introducing: _Kise Ryōta_  
> 

**Author’s Note:** Honestly, was just passing time in Law (the class is so dry and boring, and I was counting down each minute as if it would go faster) and then I thought, “Urgh, this is so the opposite of Cinderella. The class isn’t ending at 12.” And viola! A Fairytale!AU no one wanted from me! :D

Oh, right, there’s also [this post](http://ceruly.tumblr.com/post/88057830217) by ceruly. If you haven’t seen it, shame on you!

**Warning(s):** Er…we’ll pretend that names are feminine just because. (Or any name ending with “a” is female. How about that?!) So gender-bending abound.

And OOC.

And angst.

* * *

 

 

 

Taiga watches the dance through the window, refusing to believe that the seeping cold in her chest is due to the sight and not because she was inappropriately dressed for the weather. It did her no service too, that she had decided to volley over the tall fence of the castle, scamper through the dirt of the overgrown garden, and climb up the large, ancient tree with its limbs spreading across the expansive grounds of the Kingdom.

She pulls herself closer to the large window the bottom half of the castle was filled with, peering with dulled ruby eyes, head swaying slightly along with the dancing couples. Her eyes, though, are trained on only one, and the shivers had started to wrack her slight body.

It was the Kingdom’s heir, Prince Daiki, twirling the beautiful enchanted Ryōta that just moments ago Taiga had managed to see being turned into the spectacle before her, and not the poor little abused thing her family kept pushing around. Taiga watches, slightly envious and lonely, as Ryōta is twirled in a flourish of pale yellow skirts and organza, and her long, luscious blond locks spring out and wide, haloing her laughing, joyous persona. Prince Daiki looks on her beauty for what it is worth, entranced by the amber-browns in daintily sharp features. They look happy and content, sharing a magical experience and Taiga can only admire the two, unawares of their surroundings.

The light music Taiga could hear is her only companion on such a dark, cold night.

She almost wishes, her heart a horribly dark place now, that the clock strikes midnight soon, so that the Prince can see Ryōta for what she was worth.

And then, like lightening hitting her, Taiga cries when she realises that she and Ryōta were one in the same; if Taiga had a fairy godmother right about now, she would have been dancing there, with the Prince, capturing all his attention and possibly almost forgetting about the deal she makes with the sprite to disappear before the last strike of midnight.

She cries, alone, curling into herself, and asks, “Why didn’t you come to me?”

At the stroke of midnight, Taiga scampers off again, this time to the entrance, watching as Ryōta scrambles to reach the pumpkin-enchanted carriage, one shoe lost, tears almost staining beautiful cheeks, and Taiga decides to be a true friend.

“Hurry, I will distract him!” She calls out, and taking one of the apples she pilfered from the garden, she chucks it at Prince Daiki who is frantically running after Ryōta, the previously assumed lost shoe in his hand. The blonde looks over at her, wide-eyed, and smiles beatifically. It makes Taiga’s chest ache, but she foregoes that emotion, reaching for another apple to aim at the Prince.

The whole entourage of Ryōta’s is neighing away, as fast as the horses can get out of their sight, and Taiga has lost another apple to the Prince’s head. On the third try, the man has come up to her pocketing the glass shoe, furious, and demands, “You mongrel! How dare you stop me from pursuing the love of my life!”

Just as furious and ugly, Taiga scowls, red hair wild, “You don’t even know her name! if it wasn’t for this stupid ball, you would have never known of her existence!”

Prince Daiki, stunned, grabs hold of both her wrists, tight, and Taiga knows that if she would still be alive come sunrise, the marks on her hands would be a sweet reminder of something she could never have.

“You only just met her…” Taiga murmurs, soft, sorrowful, hurt. “How can you call her the love of your life?”

Prince Daiki watches as the filthy redhead who had let the beautiful blond disappear, maybe to never be seen by him again, cower before him, tears streaking down her red cheeks.

“You know of her?” He asks, calmly, expecting.

Taiga takes a few seconds. “Yes. I do.”

“Then tell me her name.”

Taiga clamps her mouth shut.

Prince Daiki shakes her, holding her firmly. “You will do as I say, or I will behead you!”

Taiga refuses for she knows the charm would have worn off by now. And who is to say the Prince would not behead Ryōta for deceiving him? Not taking the chance, Taiga instead says, “She lost a shoe, right? Go and find her. It will only fit its owner.”

And suddenly overjoyed at the prospect, not thinking of how long it would take him to find her, Prince Daiki smiles in delight. “I will do so!”

And then releasing Taiga, the Prince turns about, unawares of the abject sadness that now plagues Taiga’s soul at being rejected.

“If only,” she mumbles, watching his disappearing back under the moonlit sky, “If only I was Cindertaiga.”

 

 

* * *

 

**End Notes:** I AM SO SORRY. OTL.

I wanted to write up to the search for Cinder-Ryōta, because then Prince Daiki would be thinking about Taiga as much as he is preoccupied with Ryōta, and then...who knows?

(But I have so many other things to do...and I should be hit for this. Honestly. ;___;)

[How about telling me how bad it was?!]


	88. Unable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **As things are, when together, it is easier for them to always butt heads.  
>  Only this time, when they part, they find themselves unable to let go.**

**Warning(s):**  Angst that ends.

* * *

 

 

Daiki calls the number again, in case this time the owner picks up and he could officially blast the idiot for being careless and leaving items all over the place. The one who picks up, though, surprises him into playing mute.

“Aho,” the other says, “I know it’s you. Your name is saved on the phone.”

Daiki sighed, looking up to the sky, rubbing his face with his free hand. “Yea.”

There is silence on the line.

“Well?” Daiki is asked. “What do you want? I don’t have all the time in the world to wait until you grow back your balls.”

Sputtering and hissing, Daiki snaps out, “Why did you even pick up the phone, Bakagami?! You could’ve just ignored it!”

Kagami scoffed out on the other side. There was no noise from his end, and Daiki wondered where and what was happening, especially since the owner of the phone would have by now, started laughing and screaming at Kagami for picking up the call.

“You were annoying me, calling so many times.” There is shuffling, as though Kagami is moving the phone on to the other ear, and then, “If you don’t want to leave a message, call again in half an hour.”

Daiki considered. “Why half an hour?”

“Because I’m heading over to give the stuff back,” the words are unusual, and Daiki is sure there is something that he can say to clarify his thoughts, but Kagami is quick to change the topic. This is why he and Daiki do not get along. “Anyway, I’m going to be moving around, so I’ll end the call here.”

Daiki listens, waiting to hear the dial tone, but the sound does not come.

“Oi! Did you hear a word of what I just said?!” Kagami growls.

“Yea?” Daiki does not know why the other is angry. Daiki should be the only one, in fact, to raise his voice and scream and huff and puff. But he does not, because Kagami is on the other end of his diatribe.

“Then say something so I know you did!”

This conversation, Daiki is slowly learning, is more difficult for Kagami than it was initially appeared to Daiki. As the seconds ticked by with Daiki still not responding, the heavy breathing of the redhead through the ear piece is growing heavy.

“My bad,” Daiki ends up muttering, soft, slow. There is a sudden burst of activity on Kagami’s end, as though he had exited his home to the outside world, and the cacophony of sounds fill up the void that is continuously being created. “Do you know where they are?”

There is a clicking of tongue as an answer before—assuming that Daiki could not hear him—Kagami grounds out, “Yea, we were supposed to be at lunch, but things came up.”

Daiki wants to ask ‘ _whose things?_ ’ but the words easily get stuffed into a chest that aches and he says, non-commitment, instead, “Is that so?”

It takes Kagami two beats to say, “Yes.” Daiki wonders why.

They do not end the conversation though, and a handful of minutes pass wherein Daiki tries to piece together where all Kagami is going, what bus he is riding, who all he speaks to in that quiet gruff tone of voice of his, and Daiki has already settled himself on one of the sofas, nestled with his feet curled and a cushion on his lap, eyes drifting shut, listening to the pleasant sounds of nothing important.

Kagami, too, is surprisingly content keeping the line open, not speaking into the phone, and not making any moves to hang up. Instead he, on numerous occasions, glares at anyone who distracts him from paying utmost attention to the lulling breathing of Daiki’s, drawn out and steady, and it makes him feel as though he is clutching desperately at a baby monitor, listening to his child sleep. The thought bubbles a laugh out of him (which he supresses) and focuses his stare on random things; a passer-by jumped in their skin thinking he was glaring at them.

It is while Kagami is waiting at a pedestrian signal that Daiki breathes awake, jittery, startled, and the noise he makes waking up makes Kagami pause unnecessarily in the middle of foot traffic before he resumes.

“…Aomine?”

Daiki blinks his eyes copious amounts he feels before he hums out, “Yea?”

“Are…you…still unable to sleep?” In the comfort of his home, Daiki glances down at his knees, free hand curled and knuckle-massaging his nose bridge at the impending headache, before stiffly bouncing it on the cushion sitting askew on his lap.

“What’s it to you?” His voice, which should have been twenty-five decibels higher than it was now, whispers airily in the space that only holds him. However, he can feel Kagami even past the distance the other was no doubt at.

Daiki closes his eyes again, and hidden beneath his eyelids, he can see the vivid red hair in tuffs between fingers, scrunched up eyes as he laughs, wide and happy. The image changes, and Kagami is grinning, all teeth, eyes daring him, rushing at him. There is another, where the male is hunching over, clutching his stomach, and Daiki’s chest squeezes at the sight. Then there is Kagami, again, hot and heavy, and he wants to push that sweat-dampened red hair back, away from those thick eyebrows of his, see the flushes face for what it is worth, and the skin under his palm—

“That means no.”

Daiki blinks, the sound of traffic blaring loud on the quiet line. He dazedly continues to watch his surroundings, hoping to not flutter his eyelids close and see things that do not exist anymore. His chest hurts, so does his throat, and it makes him want to laugh (despite not being able to) because he has not even raised his voice once.

“Are you at home?” Kagami asks, breaking the lull, and again, he sounds as if he is moving. “Aomine, are you at home?”

“Yea,” he answers without realising, and his heart, the beats, pick up, stronger, heavier, beat after beat. He can feel the air moving in seamlessly, filling his tight lungs; he knows what Kagami will say without the other even speaking yet.

“I’m nearby, so I’ll drop in.”

“No,” he says, even though he is pushing a palm against his rapidly beating heart, trying to force it to slow down, to stop,  _please don’t do this, not now, not ever_ , and he starts to deny only to say, “The passcode’s the same.”

Kagami does not say anything after that.

The line goes dead.

Staring at the phone, confused, scared, anticipating, Daiki does not know when he has dropped the phone to the floor and instead of staring out of the window he sat near, he is staring at the door, half out of his seat, half poised off it.

The soft knock on the door is heard even over his noisy heart, and Daiki—usually so slow to answer—is already at the  _genkan_  hand hovering over the handle. All he has to do is turn it.

“Aomine?”

The voice is muffled but Daiki can tell. He can always tell.

With a heavy hand, the door opens, and the handle slips out of his grip. The man on the other side looks so different, but still the same, and Daiki feels every miniscule molecule of his body freeze at the sight.

“Aomine?”

Even if he wants to, Daiki cannot speak. He wants to, but he cannot. Kagami used to laugh at him for this, before, a long time ago, when Daiki looked more angry and glowering at everyone, only to find out that Daiki just did not know how to answer. Kagami knows this, so he calls out again, stepping past the threshold. “Aomine?”

A muscle in his neck ticks awake, jumpstarting his brain, his body; his heart is the last to kick-start only because Kagami’s ever-warm hand had crossed the distance in between and touched his face.

“You’re cold.”

Daiki snorts out a laugh. “Yea?” He sounds like the waking dead, derisive. He does not want to sound like that, but a small smile that was not there before picks at Kagami’s pursed lips.

“Yea,” his fingers firm up, pinching at his cheek, and Daiki frowns at the action. He tries to move away from the touch, but the hand follows until it is joined by the other pair, holding Daiki’s head in place. “And look at these bags under your eyes.” Kagami has the gall to sputter out a laugh, something Daiki used to find adorable for a man of Kagami’s calibre. Still finds adorable, he is unfortunate to realise as Kagami leans forward, tugging his head down. “Makes you look even uglier.”

Daiki tries to snap out of the hold, teeth gnashing, but Kagami is firm.

Thumbs rub gently under his eyes and it takes him a few more seconds to understand why.

“Ha ha,” Kagami’s face puckers up, features drawing together, “Why are you crying, you aho.” He closes in, dropping his forehead onto Daiki’s only because Kagami is manhandling him, “Such a baby.”

“’m not,” he manages, closing his eyes against the blurry red that is Kagami, unable to see clearly. “You’re the one crying.”

“Aa,” Kagami sounds out, agreeing, puffs of breath on Daiki’s face. “That’s there.”

Daiki, hopeful, pauses a second, holding his breath, and then, slowly, millimetre by millimetre, stretches forward, tilting, and Kagami meets him the rest of the way. Daiki grasps onto the pliant lips, and Kagami, easing his head to one side, bites hold of his lower lip, pulling, wanting to involve his tongue in this embrace that feels like a millennia since they have last done it.

His unoccupied hands—hands that had been balling his sweats unsuccessfully—now reach for Kagami’s neck, dragging him closer, wanting to bring him inside, inside Daiki because—there were just no other ways to keep Kagami from leaving him or from Daiki pushing the other away. Like electromagnets, they were constantly looking for the current to keep their polarities, otherwise were like dead pieces of metal, unmoving, unfeeling, and that scared Daiki. He needed to find a way to keep Kagami inside, locked, and never let him leave again.

Daiki pulled one last time at Kagami, who, losing his footing, falls forward into Daiki. Immediately leaving his face, Kagami holds Daiki’s head and they knock down hard on the floor, Daiki’s head cushioned from damage. He does not care that he almost killed himself, because Kagami is still kissing him, still covering his body with his heat, and Daiki cannot think of anything else he would rather do than be in the here and now, with Kagami lavishing him attention he had lost access to ages ago. Kagami, hands smarting from the collision, cradles Daiki even more carefully, and tries to get onto his knees to bring the man with him.

A clearing of a throat and a kick to their legs makes them untangle, annoyed with glares ablaze, and Kuroko and Kise are looking down at them, concealed smiles on thinned lips.

“Don’t look at us as if it is our fault,” Kuroko says, stepping in what remaining space there is left in the _genkan_. “We did press the intercom downstairs.”

“…Then how did you come up?” Kagami is curious. Daiki merely shifts his glare towards Kise who finds the door’s hinge fairly interesting, not looking over.

“Besides that, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko says, reaching over, “Where’s my phone? I’d like it back before you guys start anything I wouldn’t want to touch with a twenty-foot pole.”

Kise is kicked when he starts laughing, and Kagami chucks the phone at Kuroko. Daiki braces himself on his elbows, glaring childishly, and almost wants to ask what is on his mind, but the smile on his best friend’s (sometimes foe) face makes him swallow his words. As Kuroko leaves, he throws out a “I don’t expect a call anytime soon, but it’d be nice if you tell me what happens after.”

“Get lost,” Kagami mutters, heaving himself up to close the door on their faces, grumpy. “I swear you guys have such bad timing.”

“Er,” Kise breaks in, scratching his cheek. “Actually, if you were paying attention, you would have heard us calling you on the street.”

Daiki, from down, watches as Kagami’s face turns as red as his hair. He chuckles, closing his eyes and he tries to breathe calmly. Failing, he drops onto his back, chuckling.

“Go away,” Kagami says, pushing at the two, and pulling the door close. “I’ll talk you two later.”

“Don’t forget!” Kise cheekily calls out. Kagami glares, slamming the door shut, not wanting to hear what Kuroko had to say either. He stares at the door for a second, then over his shoulder at Daiki, an arm draped over his eyes.

Hunkering down, Kagami pokes a slender cheek.

“What?” The word is a little choked.

“How about I take you to bed?” Kagami asks, below a whisper.

Daiki searches for his hand. Kagami relents, drawing closer, and they awkwardly try to fit their big hands together, fingers laced. Kagami’s sight does not leave it until the soft snores of Daiki make him look back at the other. A chuckle is shakily dragged out of his throat, a relief he does not realise present in each inhale and exhale of air, and it takes hardly a second more before Kagami scoops up Daiki’s slumbering lanky form against his chest.

Holding him at breast, Kagami hums out a soft sound at the base of his throat, easily finding the room that hardly looked different from way back when, and he places the man on top of the sheets. Hesitant, he follows, and drapes himself against the man, and sighing softly, closes his eyes.

When they wake, they will have all the time in the world to talk. For now, Daiki needed to get rid of those bags under his eyes and Kagami, Kagami needed to sort through all those things he had refused to say before.

He was never going to let this chance go again.

 

 

* * *

**Author’s Note:** I tried to be less…the way I usually am. I think there is too much of a theme going on with my writing at the moment.

But it has a happy ending. Right?!


	89. Dust Cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **He is always quick in everything he does.**

**Warning(s):** Eh, vague (barely there) hints at the anime/manga. (By now everyone should have read and/or watched _Kuroko no Basuke_ , right?) **  
**

* * *

 

He always thought Aomine was the jagged, jaded kind of guy, quick to violence to prove his point, hot tempered and ill mannered.

Taiga learns just as quick that his assumptions are true.

Aomine was rough around the edges, scowled more than smiled, haughtily smirked more than laughed.

He resorted to kneeing people he did not like telling twice, smacked his “friends” around (but God forbid he ever thought of doing that to Kuroko even if a quick cuff at the ear was acceptable, the responding jab to the side was painful even to Taiga).

He would snarl and snap at whomsoever decided to have a nice day around his less than impeccable start, even if Aomine was to blame for staying up at all odd hours of the day, reading magazines and playing games, only because he spent what a normal person would attending classes, basketball practices, having a social life.

Taiga learns this early; Aomine does not know how to socialize beyond the _Kiseki no Sedai_ and Momoi. But even watching them talk with, at each other, Taiga has this uncomfortable ball growing in his stomach that the other really is lacking in social skills.

Aomine turns to him, then, mouth hinging downwards easily (too easily Taiga feels) and struts with a quickened pace towards him. Preparing for a brutal showdown—when was Aomine ever _nice_ to him anyways, besides the shoes that Taiga has yet to return the favour for—he is quiet surprised by the soft hold the other takes to his wrists, indicating that Taiga should remain in place.

Wide-eyed, Taiga does.

Because in the next second, Aomine is already moving away, joining the group he had earlier ranted about spending time with.

Taiga is glad he did not blink in those two seconds, otherwise he would have missed the only tender expression Aomine deems it worthy enough to show him when he kisses him softly against his lips, tugged upwards in a small, vaguely superior smile, darting into Taiga’s personal space and out again like a thief.

“Oi!” Aomine calls over his shoulder, teeth together and mouth frowning. “Get your ass in gear or we’re leaving you behind.”

Taiga scoffs, the soft memory of the kiss left behind in the dust as he trots towards Aomine, reaching for the insistent hand being showed to him. Grasping tightly, painfully—it is always a match with them—they shoulder each other as they walk, side-by-side.

“Who’s fault was it?” Taiga demands.

Aomine merely looks away, unchanged.

Taiga learns, early on, that Aomine was just a book with a hideous dust cover protecting the hard spine and the rich hard-cover. Rubbing his thumb over sharp knuckles, he muses on how it would take some time getting to read Aomine for what he was worth.

“You’re lagging behind, fatass,” Aomine interrupts his poetic musings.

Eye ticking, Taiga breathes calmly. If he does not knock him out cold for being the idiot that he is first.

 

 

* * *

**Author’s Note:** I hope you understood what “dust cover” refers to. 

(The normally fancy paper, with beautiful illustrations on what the book entails, with its ends that fold into the hard-cover book. 

Was initially made to protect leather books and what not.)


	90. Able (Morning After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **It was a waking dream to be able to see the other.  
>  He will hold this moment close to his heart because it is a lesson he will always remember the next time he wants to push him away.**

 

* * *

 

 

He wakes up with a start, heart pounding, and like a cruel twist of fate, realises that yesterday was all a dream concocted by his tired mind. He splays his hand across the bed, the cold seeping past his skin and through to his bones. He aches and aches, and slowly curls up into a pitiful ball.

It would do, then, Daiki wanting to bury himself in the ground right about now. Dig a hole so deep that even rain water after a flood would not touch him. He prepares for his makeshift burial by burrowing into his duvet and pillows, gathering the items closer to his body, forming a dome, and he wills away the peaceful noises of the morning that permeates the shuttered windows.

Daiki does not want to hear anything or anyone being happy now if he cannot have the one thing he wanted the most. The one person who he thought was beside him all night, holding him, cradling him, keeping him safe so that he was allowed to dream restfully without incident, only to wake up, cold, alone and unwanted.

Because that was what it was, right? Daiki was unwanted.

Not to say he had pulled at Kagami when the man was pushing away. He was guilty of pushing the redhead even more than the other had wanted.

“Reap what you sow, huh?” He mumbles into his knees drawn close to his face, arms clenched tightly around his shins. Now all he had to do was shrivel up and die.

A sound that he has not heard in what felt like a lifetime bounces around his cocoon, so much that even the weight shifting on the bed is a phantom feeling.

“What are you doing, Ahomine?” A strong arm tunnels through the burrow he has made, and the heat from the palm grazing his skin as it found leeway around his wrist pushed away the cold slowly eating him up. Daiki peered at the hand, like a disembodied appendage that should not be there, and shaking, he lets go of his own arms to reach for the hand. A tight grip on his hand is answer enough that this is real, and he throws back the covers, staring up at the sweet, sweet smile of Kagami.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Daiki does not care for his words. That face, that hair, those eyes, the smile, Daiki holds out his arms and ever so lightly traces the features he thought he had dreamt up the previous day.

“You’re real…”

The little lines around the smiling mouth tighten.

“I’m real,” Kagami agrees, bending closer to Daiki, and he breathes in the scent that is Kagami Taiga. For so long he wanted this, to smell the man that means more of home than the apartment they had gotten together. It had started to feel like a coffin, one in which Daiki was finding himself more and more unable to close his eyes against the sight that at once, he was so eager to look at. “I’m real.”

And Daiki sobs, rearing up on to his elbow, then reaching forward, grasped Kagami’s head in his shivering hands.

“You are here,” he did not care that he was acting less of a man in front of Kagami. The redhead did not laugh or grin, but his small smile remained and his eyes drooped, pained as well. Kagami placed his hands on Daiki’s and grinning through his tears, Daiki says, “I didn’t dream you up.”

This time Kagami chuckles a little, eyes dropping shut, lashes flush against cheeks that are pushed high due to his smile, “What’s that supposed to mean?” He lets his forehead touch Daiki’s. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It sounded like a promise. Daiki’s heart soared. “Yea?”

“Yea,” Kagami agrees again. His fingers dig through his own, until it was Kagami shaking with supressed emotion.

They were such idiots. Such big idiots.

“Welcome back,” he whispers, hoping that it is enough for now, enough to say these words and mean it for the other male.

Kagami leans into Daiki’s lips, kissing it softly. “I’m home. I’m home.”

And that was really all that Daiki needed, for Kagami to be home again.

 

 

* * *

**Author’s Note:**  I bet many of you have woken up after an awesome day wondering if it was real, right?

Yea, this is just like those days when the “dream” is too good to be true (and usually for me, my dreams are too vivid to be real OTL).


	91. Childish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **It’s the end of summer and the monsoon season leaves Daiki with a few gifts; one, he could have done without.**

 

* * *

 

 

Daiki likes when Taiga tries to play off his concern with a well-worn scowl and a hard hand on his head(when he is sitting down, at least) or an impetuous grab at his collar to apparently “ _shake the stupid out of him”_. Daiki does not bother correcting the redhead,  _he’s a returnee after all_ , but smugly remains in his presence because that was the best times to be near Taiga.

He got to poke fun and be amused when the male lit up like a fiery Christmas tree (not like Daiki has seen one, but he is sure Taiga looks like one).

He is almost glad that Taiga is daft and stupid, and even if he commiserates it, Taiga is well on his way into the speech Daiki can sleep through standing and still know what has been said.

“Yea, yea,” he says because he can, secretly riling Taiga, because let’s face it, Daiki is being given utmost priority right about now, and no one can take it away from him since no one was stupid to distract Taiga and misplace his anger unto them.

“Once is enough!” Daiki admires the row of white teeth gnashing at him.

“Kagami-kun is being an idiot. Aomine-kun is playing with you,” Tetsu,  _the little shit_ , had balls of steel and maybe an empty head with that blank look of his; without really trying, he has captured Taiga’s attention and distracted him long enough to look away from Daiki.

Daiki hates this part.

Loosening his hold on Daiki’s collar, Taiga gripes and whines, in a manly fashion of course, and storms his way around Daiki’s place like he belongs there. Daiki figures the other has forgotten his mother is still lying in wait downstairs, waiting for his visitors to go, so that she can pounce on him and demand details. “ _I didn’t know you had friends beyond Satsuki-chan! I’m so proud of you, Dai-chan!_ ”

Yea, he does not want to go through that and is contemplating taking those little white things that make him uncomfortably drowsy.

“I know you don’t want to look less of a man, carrying an umbrella,” Taiga’s gruff tone hides the real concern, “but you’ve gotta be careful, you aho. Forget getting a cold or anything. If you slip and fall, you’re simply bringing harm to your body unnecessarily.”

Daiki considers this, blinking blearily at the bowed back of the redhead, the pulsing vein on the back of his nape still prominent after being in the room for forty minutes.

“Sorry…” he starts, and surprise is evident when both Taiga and Tetsu glance at him, mouths agape, so he grins slow and easy, “I forget you’re the only one to bring  _harm_  to my body  _necessarily_.” Daiki knows and relishes the fact that it is supremely easy to get Taiga all shades of red—he changes from hot to cold so easily, it is hilarious—but the narrowed eye-scrunched face look Taiga has going wipes his smile off. “No, I really am sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” But even he knows when to stop playing games.

Taiga sighs, arms akimbo, head dropping so his chin meets a muscled chest.

“As long as you understand,” the words sound heavy and old, and as Daiki turns to look up at his ceiling, he realises that this is a side he could do without ever seeing on Taiga.

“Yea.” He agrees, inside and out. The bed shifts as Taiga flops gracefully onto one side, back facing him. But his hand, his hand reaches for Daiki’s, out of Tetsu’s sight, and grasps it tightly. “Yea.”

By the time they leave and his mother sneakily checks in on him, Daiki is tucked tightly into his bed, a cold compress on his forehead, and an unpleasant frown marking his sleeping features; Taiga was so childish in his revenge.

 

 

* * *

**Author’s Note:**  Hope you enjoyed this :D

I should get onto redoing the 7th Chapter of Expensive Chocolates sometime about now, but I don’t remember what I had written for it previously. There are so many sequels I have to finish—WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?!


	92. Territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **He is stuck, unable to protect himself, from this aggressive man.**

* * *

 

 

Aomine is aggressive, pushing, pushing, pushing.

Taiga tries to find his footing, grabbing hold of Aomine’s shirt in one hand, the other reaching behind him to find some leeway or support to keep him from being brained against a wall. A wall that he is slammed against almost immediately.

Aomine splits Taiga’s lips, pulling, pulling, pulling.

He wants to push the male away, tell him to stop, calm down, what was he doing, thinking, but Aomine’s crazed blue irises are rimmed with bloodshot veins, white sclera almost hidden behind the red lines.

Aomine’s hands grip tight, tearing, tearing, tearing.

Taiga has no other method to get him to snap out of it. One word, one smile, and the dark skinned male had vaulted off his seat, over the table in one smooth move that all Taiga could do was stare with his mouth dropped wide. He could fit his fist in it and still have room.

Aomine decides to change, suffocating, suffocating, suffocating.

It would have been better, Taiga thinks, dropping his eyes close, if he had reacted faster, thought three steps ahead of himself, opened his mouth a little sooner. But he had not, and now he was dealing with this unpredictable teenager whose hands curled around his neck and face. If Taiga even showed one bit of hesitance, all hell would break loose.

Aomine reaches in, further, further, further.

He tries to keep his thoughts alive, bouncing on the surface of his wavering mind, even if he could not see Aomine any longer. Taiga wants to speak, to reach for the man, but he is effectively blocked on all sides, his weight clamping his arm behind him and the fist in Aomine’s hideous sweater too occupied to be removed now. He struggles, pulling his other arm from behind. The taste of blood in his mouth is there, lingering, not overpowering. The air is leaving his lungs amazingly fast, and Taiga wants to breathe again.

Aomine is furious, rasping, rasping, rasping.

Taiga lets his tongue go slack from its original activity of forcing out words—not that Aomine would allow it, that was how manic he was—and presumes to push at the insistent arms around his neck and the body holding him in place against the wall. It takes more strength than he had at hand, but Taiga manages.

Gasping, he glares through his fringe at the equally gasping Aomine.

“Fucker,” he rasped out, dragging his arm across his mouth, wiping, “Can you not do anything in moderation?”

Aomine glares conceitedly, looking down his nose at him, hip cocked to the side as he rests his hands on them. Teeth white and sharp, the gleam of spittle on his lips that are stretched too widely to be considered a smile. Taiga returns the glare easily, breath coming back to him.

“What are you talking about? That asshole needs to know you’re taken, Taiga. I don’t share.”

Taiga rolls his eyes, straightening to move past the self-important man. “He’s your fucking cousin, and he was only being polite. You did not have to  _devour_  me in front of the whole gang.” He wipes his mouth again. Back facing him, Taiga does not see Aomine reach to drape his arm around his shoulders, face close to his neck. His pulse jumps, and while Aomine breathes hot and heavy near his skin, his eyes have caught onto the sheepishly embarrassed male that was Aomine’s cousin. Said male had only complemented Taiga on his accomplishments in Japan, and Aomine had warned the other not to be too happy-go-lucky. Taiga had never seen the blue haired male react faster than he had when the cousin teased Taiga.

“Whatever,” Aomine mumbled against his throat.

Sighing, he raised a hand to muss the short blue hair. “Idiot.” Glancing down at the fisting hand on his chest, he continues, “Besides, he’s got nothing I would go for in a man, right, Aomine?”

Aomine stills.

“He isn’t the possessive little bitch that needs to mark his territory at every little turn like the one I have right about now.”

Taiga blisses in the mass sputtering his bitter half takes part in, only that Aomine’s cousin’s laughter ends up being the last thing Aomine attacks with a punch to the face. Covering his own in dying mirth, Taiga wonders what he has done to deserve this.

“Excuse me sirs, would you please take yourselves outside?”

Taiga groaned, hanging his head.

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:**  XD Was that misleading? (Yes, I’m a little shit too.)

A little different format. Was that okay?


	93. A Strip Tease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Run On Sentences – Take 18:  
>  “A Strip Tease”**  
> Has Never Made Him Ache So Bad (Before Now)

* * *

 

 

Taiga knows he should stop staring at Aomine, even though at the moment that was all everyone else was doing, watching as the dark skinned male peeled off his wet clothes in what seemed like slow motion—Taiga already had a song playing in his head in tandem to Aomine’s motions and his hands braced in his lap is to prevent anyone seeing what could only spell out his demise later—the victory juice running down his neck and arms in rivulets, a light pink tongue stretching out to sensually lick up one forearm at the liquid, (and was it just him?), dark blue eyes peeking from hooded lids are staring right at Taiga, demanding his attention, with the most Taiga can do is sit stunned, dry mouthed, because a half-dressed Aomine is sinful even to the cultured; Taiga wants to reach out and touch that skin, curl his fingers into the thin line of hair trailing to the depths hidden behind the band of underwear that the sensation of said material is already ghosting against his lips, against his teeth, and the curving of lips means he knows why Taiga is licking his lips; in turn Aomine licks his, too.

 

 

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  **Author's Note:** I'm sorry it's so mediocre! And that it's been a while!! School's been a bit busy, and the weather is affecting everything, from health to electricity and whatnot. So while I have been posting work on Tumblr, I forget to post it here too OTL.

 

Hope you enjoyed this, nevertheless! :D


	94. Towel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Aomine was like a wild beast, and beasts do not show their unprotected napes to anyone, not even to those in their pack.**

**Author’s Note:** This…started off as something else and became something else. Nevertheless, I hope you guys enjoy!! :D

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Aomine, for someone who hates being fussed over, wears a large pout as he ambles around the living area with his wet hair, large drops flying off the short ends and leaving footprints around his place. It would have annoyed him, but just looking at the slender curve of Aomine’s strong neck, damp skin from his bath, and Taiga finds himself going back to chuck the towel at the other male’s head.

“Dry your hair or you’ll get sick and blame it on me,” he says, returning back to the kitchen where he is preparing tea; Aomine had surprising asked for some rather than food. Not that Taiga was complaining; his feet were sore from all the roadwork he was forced to do for the past week.

Aomine grunts noncommittally, browsing the spread out magazines that Taiga had left unconcernedly at the coffee table, but not moving towards doing as he was asked.

Knowing the other was fully capable of ignoring him, Taiga brought out the steaming mugs, settled them down with a _thunk,_ closer to Aomine’s side, and walked behind the male who was not lounging on the floor. Sitting on the couch, Taiga reaches out and drags Aomine behind to rest in between his knees, thoroughly scrubbing his head with the towel in due diligence. The resounding growls and hard clutching of his wrists inform Taiga that his method of concern was unappreciated.

“That hurts,” is what Taiga hears under all the hair ruffling as he stiffly rubs Aomine’s head. “Do it more gently if you are doing it at all.”

Taiga, almost pausing, blinks. _Well, what do you know?_ He does do as requested, slowing down and easing up on his brand of care, gentle massaging motions now occupying his time. From where he sat, he cannot see Aomine’s face, but the other had bent his head forward so that Taiga had more surface area to work with, without the need to bend awkwardly.

It seemed Aomine liked the attention he was receiving, especially with the well-hidden soft sounds escaping his lips. Just because Taiga was not commenting on it, that did not mean he could not hear it. However he knew if he said something, Aomine would simply eradicate the touch by swatting his arms away, glare over his shoulder, and then resume whatever perked his fancy at that moment. Though here he was, revealing an exposed nape unlike how he would have normally done; after all, Aomine was like a wild beast, and beasts do not show their unprotected napes to anyone, not even to those in their pack.

For some reason, Taiga felt warm in his chest at Aomine’s show of acceptance.

They were what one would consider loose friends—not really close enough to call and ask to hang out or talk about their bad days, only interested in one activity and that was basketball. They had played awfully long today (if what Aomine did to Taiga was considered ‘playing’, the ass), and both tired and hungry, they trotted to Taiga’s place, only because neither had money to spend on take-out. Being courteous—or as courteous one could be with a griping Aomine—Taiga shoved him off towards the bathroom so that he could have some peace and quiet, and peruse his kitchen leisurely. So when, fifteen minutes later, smelling like Taiga, Aomine drapes over his shoulder to ask for (read: demand) tea, Taiga grudgingly got to the task.

Taiga wonders why he has been so easy going when he should have blown a gasket much earlier on in the evening.

Looking at the nape again, Taiga was not so sure if being his angry, hot headed self would have led to this development, but holding Aomine’s head in his hands, gently raking the towel back and forth, the mood is slowly settling into a comfort he did not know existed.

So he is quite surprised—jaw dropping and all—when Aomine murmurs, “This is nice.”

It takes a while to spur his brain back into activity. “Hm?” He decides to play safe.

“This,” Aomine repeats louder, stiffly, but not moving, “is nice.” And as though debating whether he should say anything more, Taiga watches a vein at the back of Aomine’s neck jump. “Thanks.”

Taiga must have died and gone to a parallel universe, where there is a nice, well-behaved and well-mannered Aomine sitting in between his knees. He holds Aomine’s head still after, and a second or two later, Aomine shifts to look back at him, towel falling around his lean shoulders without concern. An unusual furrow settles on his forehead, and if it was anyone other than Aomine’s face he was talking about, Taiga would have called it ‘cute’.

“What is it?”

Taiga shook his head. “Nothing.” Aomine, looking askance, did not budge. “You’re right; this is nice.” _And there I blew it._ Taiga prepares himself to see Aomine disregard him and move away, only for the other male to turn around, and drop himself further into Taiga’s lap, using his thighs as newfound arm rests.

“It is,” Aomine agrees again, and silently, slowly, Taiga resumes his task of towel drying his hair.

It is, he is sure, what may have brought upon a change in their relationship, even if it was something so small.

Smiling to himself, Taiga ducks his chin.

 

 

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**Author's End Note:** Before I could edit this to my liking, Tumblr had already posted this FROM MY DRAFTS! OTL. I'm feeling sad now. But no matters!! Pueppie has helped fuel the flames for a follow-up! XD


	95. Fifty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Daiki would have to eat his arm and leg before he would say that he was thankful for finding a friend such as Kagami.**

**Author’s Note:** I am a horrible KagaAoKaga fan. I was writing one story, that gave rise to another idea, so I started that, and then thinking about those two, gave rise to the third one. They…are all…incomplete. To commiserate, my cousin the ultimate loser, took me out into the rain and forgot that he did not come by car this time, so we were stuck for two hours in a freaking downpour. The joys of getting over one cold and welcoming the next.

So here’s a small one! (Late as it is for AoKaga Day…) I apologise OTL.

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The only thing he could think to ask was, “Are you getting a cold?” when Kagami sneezed for what seemed to be the fiftieth time in the span of seconds. Daiki was exaggerating, but between one game level to the next, defeating bigger and harder bosses, Kagami had been doing some kind of synchronised orchestral trumpet blowing behind him. It only took him a few seconds (really they were minutes he should have been paying attention to those exploding pixel characters) to pause the start of the third level to glance over at the redhead, wheezing.

“I’m not,” was the petulant reply.

Daiki scoffed, turning back to resume his game, not even a second going by before Kagami sneezed again.

“For fuck’s sake, go do something with your nose!” Daiki snapped, jamming his dexterous thumbs on the controller, agitated on the fifty-second sneeze. “Blow it, wash it, do something with it!”

The silence from his exclamation did not go unnoticed. Irate, he presses the pause button again, chucking the controller to the side and glaring over his shoulder. Kagami was sniffling now, rubbing his nose with one hand, the other holding…a feather duster.

“…If dusting makes you sneeze so much, don’t do it,” Daiki sagely advised.

For the first time, Kagami glared back at him.

“Easy for you to say, lazy ass. If it weren’t for me, you’d be living in a pigsty!”

Daiki, because he could and no one in their right mind would stop him from doing so, scoffed again. “I never asked you to clean after me. You’re not my mother.”

Kagami, for a very brief second, looked scandalised. “…Your mother should have heard you just now.”

Daiki scowled. “What, are you going to snitch to my mother?”

Hands on his hips, feather duster precariously dangling, Kagami loudly proclaimed, “If it got you to stop dumbing your garbage in front of my door and letting your shit tumble into my half of the balcony, why not?”

Daiki decided to ignore him. “Move away then.”

This time, the silence was punctuated with a profound stillness that made Daiki a tad bit apologetic for saying something like that to the other male. It was by chance they had found themselves in the neighbourhood, and by chance they found themselves neighbours in the community dorm for service workers. Daiki would have to eat his arm and leg before he would say that he was thankful for finding a friend such as Kagami living next to him, because if it were not for the other, Daiki would be eating the cardboard stuff called microwavable food, convenience store _bentō_ , and possibly dying of his own filth. Kagami, who had chanced upon his dirt slowly piling in their screened shared balcony, had rounded by his front door one day and demanded it to be cleaned, only to find Daiki owlishly blinking at him.

“You don’t mean that,” Kagami muttered. Daiki snapped his head back at the tone, but Kagami was already looking away, idly poking at the random figurines Daiki or Satsuki or his mother had placed in some fashion on the short row of shelves with the accursed feather duster.

Daiki almost wondered if that was Kagami’s cleaning tool or his own, but disregarded it at the hunched shoulders of the redhead. That was more of priority anyway, so Daiki got to it.

“Yea, I don’t,” he flicked his eyes all over the place, frowning, one hand coming closer to his face because he was definitely feeling more under the weather than he was accusing Kagami of being just moments ago; his face was hot. “I didn’t mean that.”

Kagami makes a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat, and the resulting swishes and rustling means that he has resumed his self-appointed task of dusting, if not for the fifty-third sneeze that Daiki counts with closed eyes.

Rearing up onto his feet, a forced push of air from his lungs, Daiki rounds the sofa and grabs the feather duster from Kagami’s slackening hand. “Give that to me, you go and…I don’t know, do something else!”

Daiki pretends he does not see the pleased smile brimming Kagami’s lips, or the equally red hue that takes over his cheeks. His own face has some explaining to do, because he does not remember when the last time he was sick, but this was definitely not how things usually go down.

The slowly deafening beats of his heart as Kagami’s smile broadens, and the male says something or the other, is lost to Daiki as he focuses all his willpower in the mundane activity he took over from Kagami.

He really will eat his arm and leg before he would say anything to Kagami, furiously hitting the useless figurines with the duster in tandem with his heartbeats.

 

 

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**Author’s End Notes:** Urgh…I was trying for cute fluff. But if I can’t bring about some sort of plot, I fail terribly!

I am...trying to juggle the three stories I started to write earlier in the weekend, but so far...I'm hopelessly under the weather. it started raining again, and so it's making me feel angry (it made me sick!!), but I'm hoping one more night and some strong decongestants will let me recover a little faster than last time. And some ice-cream :D. [When am I ever going to finish my other incomplete work?!]


	96. Belittle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The resounding slap seemed to echo in the living room, the loud thudding of both their hearts a backdrop to the sound. “Don’t,” Taiga spoke softly, still gruff, but smooth; Daiki blinked down at his suddenly bared knees, devoid of a slumping redhead, eyes stinging the same way one side of his face was.**

**Author’s Note:** Someone seriously needs to control me. Put me in a zapping collar or something similar. Something random I thought of while going to bed. Woke up this morning and already had it nibbling at my resolve. It is  _still_ raining today ;_;

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Daiki dropped himself gracelessly, far different than he was won't to do, draping an arm across his face. Distracted, it took taiga a few seconds to pause his current train of thought to face the other male.

"Did I miss your greeting?" Taiga wanted to know, the pen he was using flicking between two fingers, agitated to get back to work, but still wanting the few minutes he set aside for the other male.

Daiki sighed. "No, sorry," he still did not move, "I didn't say anything."

A thick red eyebrow with its idiosyncratic split, rose slowly behind an equally dark set of red bangs. "O...Kay...?"

This time the man moved, dropping his arm away and sighing up in the air. “My bad,” straightening his back, his head artfully rolled to one side looking at Taiga, and with a small smile he responded, “I’m home, Taiga.”

Taiga’s grin reflected his unease at the way Daiki was acting. He put the pen down, and the sound of it tumbling on the surface was ignored in favour of taking in the slumped shoulders, the suspiciously droopier eyelids and the lacklustre arrogant radiance Daiki was known for missing in his current stance. “…Welcome back, Daiki.” He hesitated for a split second before crawling on his knees towards Daiki. “Did…did something…?”

Daiki’s stiffening of shoulders answered his question even as cloudy blue eyes shuttered close wearily. “Not really?” He sounded unsure. “I don’t know myself.”

Taiga blinked.

Almost chewing his words, not wanting to mess up—this was his first time, and hopefully not last—he laid one hand on his knee and asked, “Do you…think you want to talk about it?” _That is how you say it, right?_ He wonders almost silently to himself.

One eyelid opens. “You’ll…hate it.”

Taiga forced himself not to jerk away from Daiki. “W-what is it?”

Daiki had to sigh again before he spoke. “I…You know I was meeting the guys tonight, right?”

“Aa,” Daiki had complained for the whole fortnight with that information, whether it was by phone, by mail or text. There was no way Taiga _forgot_ about today’s drinking get-together.

“We, we were done earlier than expected, and,” Taiga unconsciously tightened his hold on Daiki’s kneecap, and feeling it, he flicked his sight form the white-knuckled grip to Taiga’s curious stare and grim lip line. “Kise, he… he was rambling about how he…” Daiki ground his teeth together, almost begging Taiga to understand what he was not saying. Taiga did not—the redhead would never fill in the blanks for someone else only because he hated assuming—and so he remained waiting at Daiki’s feet.

Unable to stop himself now, he grabbed tight Taiga’s hand on his knee, and with eyes clenched tight, he said, “The idiot told me he had feelings for me! Before I could, before I could—!”

Taiga slackened his grip immediately, and the tense stiffening of his body relaxed so that he wilted. “Oh.”

Daiki snapped his head toward Taiga. “What do you mean ‘oh’?!”

Taiga shrugged. “Well…it wasn’t really uncommon knowledge, about Kise.” He held his tongue for a second, then, “And…you didn’t get to tell them again?”

Daiki shook his head, this time cringing in guilt. Taiga’s patting on his knee made him feel worse, but he refused his body to shy away from the touch. “Sorry.”

Taiga shrugged again. “I can’t say this will make it easier for you now,” he offered, leaning in closer as though knowing Daiki was trying to withdraw from him, draping himself across the other male’s knees with both arms now, resting his chin on his forearms. “Not after Kise’s…declaration?”

Pursing his lips, he sat still; if he moved he would get a lapful of Taiga, and that was something he could not deal with at the moment. “That fellow…Kise…I don’t think he even knew what he was saying. Tetsu was there, so he helped take him home, and I couldn’t do anything, Taiga. Why did he-! Why did he have to ruin our friendship?!” He cried.

The resounding slap seemed to echo in the living room, the loud thudding of both their hearts a backdrop to the sound. “Don’t,” Taiga spoke softly, still gruff, but smooth; Daiki blinked down at his suddenly bared knees, devoid of a slumping redhead, eyes stinging the same way one side of his face was; “Don’t belittle his feelings because you cannot answer to them.”

The noise Daiki made in his clenched throat was something neither had heard before.

Remorseful, Taiga lumbered onto his feet, sliding beside Daiki and gathering the shaking man in now. “Kise may or may not remember what he said, Daiki, but you have to own up to it, okay? For all you know, he might have been reliving past emotions, but he whether it was before or now, the little idiot liked you right?” Daiki did not speak, but his fingers scrunched Taiga’s t-shirt between them. “Hey now, you know you have to do the right thing, aho.”

The slight movement against his chest made Taiga smile. He tightened the makeshift hug and felt the dampness against his skin, wanting to burrow Daiki even further into his embrace if it was physically possible. He had promised the other he would never have to cry if Taiga was around him, but as they sat, almost curled into each other, he found that it was virtually impossible for the other not to shed tears when it came to his passions, his friends, his family… and that just made Taiga try harder.

“Tomorrow, when Kise sends you that annoying Good Morning message of his, you tell him that you guys have to meet, okay?”

Daiki nodded again, spreading the wet sensation against Taiga’s neck this time. The male breathed in deeply, staggered, and Taiga dug his chin into the groove of Daiki’s shoulder, kissing the skin there.

“You’ll be fine, Daiki,” Taiga reminded him. “You guys will be fine.”

Daiki nodded again, clawing Taiga closer.

When Taiga wakes up the next morning, there is a note written with sure strokes that Daiki would be meeting up with Kise. Taiga tries not to worry too much; even if things blow over badly, he knows the two will mend their relationship even if he wishes from the bottom of his heart that it did not come to that.

After all, Daiki was such a soft-hearted teddy-bear—even if he wanted to hide behind his frowns and scowls, everyone knew better.

The cloudless blue skies reflecting off his computer screen stills his worrisome heart. He too, did not want to lose the makeshift friendship he had with the blond male, when Daiki tells him of their relationship.

Taiga traces the rim of his morning mug, biding the time Daiki comes home, distracting himself with more studies that he could not finish the previous night, only wondering what the day would bring them.

 

 

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**Author’s End Note:** So I was thinking, how Aomine is really such a baby when it comes to these things, you know? Like, he says he hates dealing with things like hanging out and all that, but he honestly cannot really push the Kiseki no Sedai away. Like for example, Kise: he complained about the blond, but never _really_ pushed him away when Kise asked for those one-on-ones, right? Or even Midorima: everyone says they could not get along with him the most, but honestly, didn’t they love teasing him or making fun of him all the time? I honestly cannot tease someone I do not like/hate, so I was using the same principle here.

Sorry, I’m going now.     |ω・）

 

Which reminds me...only 4 more pieces until 'If At First You Don't Succeed' ends. T__T


	97. Chore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Daiki did not have bad hearing. Which makes what he heard even worse when it comes to what they were doing. All he knows is: Daiki will kill Kagami.**

**Author’s Note:** So this was the ‘original’ AoKaga Day post (more like the opposite). I’m just glad I got it done. Two more to go. But I’m in school atm, and supposed to work on my assignment, but it’s boring. And time consuming. And urgh. OK, I’m making excuses.

* * *

 

Daiki blinked.

It took a few seconds to really get his brain activity to start up again—and no one should blame him for it, after the trials and tribulations he had to go through to get Kagami to react—before words finally tumbled out of his mouth.

“Did you just sigh?”

“Hm?”

“You sighed. Just now.”

“Eh? I…might have?” The questioning tone, the unsure hesitance in the reply start gnawing at him, until Daiki, even with an aching back, managed to sit himself upright and glare at the panting redhead beside him. Said redhead was unconcernedly calming down after their raucous activities on the bed, and watching the impressive torso of the male who was just seconds ago making Daiki’s every nerve cry for release was causing him to almost spring forth an arousal he should be shooting himself for. Instead, he concentrated on the gaping mouth gulping in air as though he ran a cross-country marathon.

“You did. You sighed.” Daiki glared, pre-emptive of him, but he was not taking chances; he wanted to be prepared for everything. “Why?”

Kagami withdrew his arm to glower at him, a confused twist to his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re getting at. Spit it out, already!”

Daiki leaned over him. With a finger, the way Satsuki sometime emphasised his shortcomings, Daiki decided to do so with Kagami: “You,” jab, “sighed,” jab, “after,” jab harder, “fucking,” double jab and twist, “me.” Here he used two fingers—larger surface area should mean more pain, and there was already a nice purpling of skin where he was inflicting his intentions onto Kagami—and added a little more pressure than was required.

Kagami tried to swat his hand away, but he danced it away expertly. His eyes trained on the narrowed red irises, watching, waiting, lurking to pounce on the idiot who would ultimately speak out on his own demise.

Daiki just knew he was going to say something stupid.

And Kagami, if anything, lately was always falling into the pit he was digging himself into.

“…Sex with you is feeling like a chore.”

Daiki gagged, blinking rapidly. His brain took a nosedive into non-functioning territory.

“It feels like it’s taking longer and longer to get you going, and then it takes longer for you to really hit your peak, and then,” Kagami was sounding exasperated. Daiki was not sure how he liked this newfound tone in the male’s voice, “And then you just…lay there.”

“I- what?”

“Lay there,” Kagami tried to imitate how Daiki apparently looked after sex, and for some reason, the blood just under his skin was boiling viscously, like lava, and once it started to run, he was sure he would not stop until he saw the other’s blood.

“You’re…kidding me right?” Murderously, he added, “I’ll kill you.”

Kagami gulped, but a sudden fighting spirit crept up on him as he sidled upwards, leaning against the headboard of Daiki’s crappy bed, creaking under the ministrations even when they were not having sex. The sound annoyed both of them at the moment, but only Kagami clicked his tongue at it. Gripping the covers over his nude waist, he agitatedly started with, “What’s with you?! I should be the one who wants to kill you!” He threw one arm to hit Daiki across his chest, and with a surprised ‘ _omph!’_ Daiki tumbled backwards onto the bed. “You’re the one enjoying everything that is happening while I do all the work!”

“Hah?!” Daiki growled. “But you won’t even let me top anymore!”

“So?!” Kagami’s voice was starting to carry unnecessarily across the room. “That doesn’t mean you lie there like a blow up doll!” And as though trying to make Daiki feel worse about the admission, he added, “Even the fucking doll would do more work than you currently do!”

It felt more like a blow to Daiki’s heart than his ego—which was probably what Kagami was going for, in retrospect—and it took a few more seconds to realise the burning on his cheeks were not from the heated argument more so than they were from the tears slipping free from their little ducts whose existence he hated with a vengeance. Though, the surprise on Kagami’s face was nice, he could have done without the added humiliation on his part.

“Geh—Ao-Aomine!” Kagami reached forward to Daiki’s face, which, since he was being such an ass, Daiki smacked away, sniffling unconsciously. Inside, he was dying a little more.

“Don’t touch me,” he mumbled, sniffling more. The hole he imagined Kagami was burying himself in, he wanted one of his own too, right about now. “I…it just…sex with you…” He was incoherent, he knew, but his thoughts were all jumbled up, and nothing he wanted to say seemed right, or seemed enough. Finally, as though all his resolves were nothing but leaf litter waiting to be burned by the fire that was Kagami, he let out: “Sex with you is just too good.”

What should have happened, Daiki thought with an awe he did not think was possible, was Kagami should have gloated and held the information over his head for kingdom come. It was, after all, the only logical possibility that one would think of, concerning the two of them. But here, sitting on the annoying, creaky bed, that honestly Daiki should look into getting replaced sooner rather than later, he is feeling a little lightheaded.

The blush on Kagami’s face is going against all his thoughts, all his assumptions, all his wildest imaginations.

“Wh-why are you blushing?!” Daiki demanded, because, what best way to cover up his own embarrassment by picking on someone else’s right? “Stop it!”

Kagami, enraged, but a beautiful even red colour from head to torso—though Daiki knows the carpet matched the drapes—snapped at him with “If someone can stop when you say to stop, they would have done it a long time ago, you asshole! Stop looking at me like that, damn it!”

To add to his words, Kagami pushed at Daiki’s face. Unfortunately, for both of them, Daiki’s brain was not allowing his body to listen to the immediate request, and struggled valiantly to stay fixated on the mortified bed mate.

“Why did you have to say that?!” Kagami demanded, looking away instead when he realised how futile his actions were. He bunched up the bed covers in his lap, looking down, back a nice smooth muscled arch. Daiki almost ran his hand along the jutting spine.

Shivering at the thoughts in his head, he decided to gather himself and his uselessly active libido, and ground out, “Because you said that it was a chore, sex with me, that is.”

“No, not—urgh!” Kagami brought both hands up to his head, mussed his bangs and hair, leaning his elbows on slightly raised knees. Daiki watched as Kagami had a mental breakdown. It was slightly comforting. There was a moment of silence, as though Kagami was bowing his head in prayer, before he jerked in place. “Sex with you is good,” he agreed softly, petulant, “but sometimes…I wish you would do more.”

Daiki pursed his lips. “More like what?” He honestly thought he was doing a lot; moaning, groaning, scratching his back, jerking his hips closer to Kagami as the other pounded into him; what more could the other want?

“More like,” here, Kagami glanced up, shyly, though his eyes were ablaze, “Calling my name, or telling me what you really want instead of me playing guess work, or,” and licking his lips, causing them to gleam similar to his eyes about now, “want to do things for me.”

Daiki had to physically restrain his bobbing second head, pretending that he was moving so that he could face Kagami better, but really pulling more of the bed covers closer to him and onto his lap. It would not do to distract away from the topic. “That…sounds like a lot of work,” he agreed.

“Yea,” Kagami nodded, “it’s a chore, alright.”

Daiki grinned. “Well, you only get better at chores when you receive a lot of practice in it, right?”

The resounding grin was the last thing Daiki could really concentrate on. The next few hours went into working on this “chore” that Kagami was calling him out on.

 

 

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**Author’s End Note:** I’m sorry. OTL. But I had fun. |ω・）


	98. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Daiki knew he was taking too long to answer something he really wanted to jump to, but for once, his brain was clamping down on his heart.**

**Author’s Note:** So I got an Anonymous message last night (No! No! It was nice! A prompt!), and though I started it, and finished most of everything but the rising action/conflicts of the story (that’s the freaking main part OTL), I was taking a breather—yes, taking a break on a story with another story; I am horrible.

Nevertheless…Enjoy! XD

* * *

 

 

He hid his mouth behind his palm, perched gracefully on one corner of the only sofa in the living room, eyes idly tracing the other male’s movements.

Daiki and Taiga had been together for a months before Taiga brought up the question to move in, and while Daiki would have jumped up to the opportunity—you would have to be stupid to miss out on Taiga’s food and then the added benefit of being able to have sex all they want and just pass out besides each other and not have to run back to their own place before the last train or rush early morning—he had said, “I’ll think about.”

Taiga’s surprise was well-founded; he just could not hide it very well after.

Even now, weeks after Taiga had “proposed”, Daiki’s mouth was welded shut, unable to find the words in his head to explain why he was yet undecided.

“Oh, right,” Taiga stopped aimlessly walking back from his room to the living area, only to go back again before he stopped near Daiki. Daiki, dragging his sight from Taiga’s chest to his bare feet and then the unwarranted distance in between where he sat and the other stood, barely nodded. “Up for a game or two of street basket?”

Daiki frowned.

“Isn’t it too late to gather people?”

Taiga one-shouldered shrugged at him. A nerve in his shoulder ticked, but he refused to give into it.

“Well, if it’s one-on-one—”

“Nah,” Taiga disregarded, a hand going to the edge of his track pants’ drawstring. Tugging it, twirling it, clenching it tightly. Daiki did not miss that. “We should call people. Kuroko was saying he was becoming stiff nowadays, and I’m sure if he asks Kise, he’ll be up for it too.” He pulls out his phone, deftly unlocking it with his thumb and flicking through its contents. “I know I have Takao’s number in here somewhere…” he mumbled, “He’s the best to get that _tsundere_ out and about in the weekends.”

“You want to call Midorima?” Daiki asked, exasperated, eyebrow arching high on his forehead. He could understand Tetsu and Kise, but who were all these other characters.

“Ah, too bad Tatsuya isn’t this part of Japan,” Taiga mused, eyes not leaving the phone’s screen.

Daiki pursed his lips closed.

“But I do know a few of the guys who use the court on Saturdays, so maybe if they’re willing—n”

“Taiga,” Daiki tried to cut in.

“—we could play a match. Even if the others don’t come, it isn’t like we couldn’t handle it, right?” Taiga close-eyed grinned at him. It was that cheeky kind of grin that Daiki loved, but now, his heart twanged at it.

“Taiga,” he called again.

“Maybe I should make some food to take with us? What do you say?” The redhead was already heading to the kitchen, probably to see what he could cook up the fastest.

“Taiga!”

“Hm?” He looked over his shoulder as he made his way, not even stopping.

Irate, Daiki sat up straighter, glaring unconsciously. He balled his hands on his lap as he asked, “Have you already asked the others if they’re free?”

“Hm? Oh yea,” Taiga rubbed his head sheepishly. “Think you can message them from my phone? I’ll get started on the food.”

The suspicious tick in his neck started up again.

“Taiga,” he raised his voice to be heard over the noise the other was making, gathering food items onto the kitchen counter, “Could we talk for a second?”

Taiga did not answer; either he was pretending not to hear Daiki or he really could not hear him.

Not wanting to find out which of the two it was, Daiki moved. Bracing one hand on the counter, he ducked in Taiga’s line of vision. The redhead’s eyes briefly met his sideways before looking back at his work.

“Can we talk?”

“Aren’t we talking?”

“Not like this; face-to-face.”

One dark brow rose. “What happened now? If you don’t want to play basketball, we can do something else.”

“Taiga,” he cranked his neck to look at the pale white ceiling, wondering what he should start with. In the few weeks in between Taiga’s proposal and where they stood apart now, Daiki had been chalking up what he was thinking about them moving in together meant. He was all for sharing all these sweet simple moments with the redhead, eat all their meals together, fight for who uses the bathroom in the morning first, who gets to lead in their love-making, what should be the menu for the next occasion; so many things Daiki wanted to do with Taiga, but…

“Taiga, look at me damnit!”

Taiga’s back stiffened. He placed his hands, palm-down, on the surface of the counter closest to him, lightly curling them into loose fists. “Yea?”

Daiki licked his lips.

“I wanna move in with you,” he started, “but—” It did not take a genius to see the whole body flinch Taiga had going on his words, so Daiki scowled, coming closer to grab at his upper arm. “You idiot, listen to me before you jump to conclusions!”

Taiga frowned.

“This, I hate when you do this!”

“What does that mean, bastard?! What am I doing?”

They were so quick to get into fights to cover up their feelings, that Daiki could not only blame Taiga for their shortcomings. He too, was to blame for how long it took to get this sorted out, so much that, Taiga was putting a physical distance between them as though he was waiting for Daiki to bring up the idea of breaking off their relationship.

That just made Daiki unbearably furious, both with Taiga and his pig-headedness, and his own foolishness.

He should have seen the signs for what they were, Taiga slowly withdrawing, slowing making gaps in all their interactions as though, making a physical distinction would make the pain less when they did end things.

“I’m not calling us quits,” Daiki said first, “We’ve invested too much to end it now, and not like this.”

The furrow on Taiga’s forehead made his chest ache; he looked like he was trying not to cry.

“You…while I was thinking about how I wanna spend every moment of my life with you and not apart, I realised that, we’re really very different in the way we do things.”

The frown was growing. “Like how? Sad to say, but you’re as much a basketball idiot as I am.”

Daiki’s cheek twitched. “Besides that, you’re just too…unpredictable for my liking. And my brain.”

Taiga looked like he wanted to quip about that, so Daiki forged on without giving him a chance; Taiga sometimes loved overriding him.

“I like structure; you don’t really care for it. Sure you have your rules: the chores you leave me with, the things we have to do when we’re home and all that useless shit,” he nodded at the look Taiga was giving him, “or like how you spend a god-awful for someone living alone,” he ignored Taiga’s outcry of ‘ _What are you talking about? I’ve got to eat, right?!’_ , “or when you go out of your way to help someone who calls on you, or when there’s something you really want to do but don’t care if I can or not…you literally just,” he paused to breathe out slowly, “walk over me sometimes.”

Taiga jerked back.

“I…I do?”

Daiki nodded.

“Sometimes it’s tolerable because you look too god-damn happy to say anything, but other times you’re worse than a mule, you fucking stubborn asshole.”

Taiga blinked.

Daiki blinked back.

“So…what does this mean?”

“It means you’re going to have to listen to me if you want me—n”

“I want you,” Taiga honestly broke in.

Frustrated, Daiki harrumphed, continuing as he gripped Taiga harder on the arm, “—to live with you. I do want to, and god how much I wanted to say yes, but Taiga,” Taiga was looking like an eager puppy who was finally being introduced to the big dog’s treats, so Daiki released his arm and placed both hands to the flushed cheeks of his lover, “I’m not going to stand around quietly when you get all high and mighty like this, again, okay?”

Taiga nodded, the thinned line of his lips wobbling with suppressed glee that Daiki was sure he would burst if he was forced to contain it for a moment longer. Slowly, he released Taiga’s cheeks, drawing a step away, only to have the other male throw his arms around his waist and _lift him up_. A little scared at the reaction, he grabbed onto the redhead’s shoulders as his feet dangled with no support under them.

Laughing, giddy, Taiga buried his face into Daiki’s torso.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, almost reverent, “ _fuck_.” His arms squeezed Daiki even more, closer to him.

Daiki chuckled, wanting to come down from this precarious position, but Taiga did not seem to want to leave him at all. So Daiki carefully wrapped his arms around Taiga’s shoulders, unintentionally smothering the man. However, it was probably the only way he would have found out that Taiga was crying; his shirt was unreasonably damp.

“Taiga?”

“Hm?” Taiga muttered into his abdomen, causing his muscles to flutter at the sensation.

“I really, really love you, you know that?”

The arms tightened, if that was even possible.

Smiling, Daiki hugged Taiga tighter.

“I know,” leaning his head back, Taiga’s face was a wet mess of tears, his mouth still wobbling into a large smile. “I love you, too.”

“Let’s wipe that face of yours so that I can kiss it,” Daiki deemed, dragging his arm across Taiga’s face impromptu, causing the man to laugh and scowl at the same time.

“Way to ruin the moment, aho.”

“What are you talking about?” Daiki grinned, cheekily, “Thanks to me, it’s being created, dumbass.”

Taiga did not deny anything as he leaned, loosening his hold on Daiki so that he slipped down a few inches, making it easier for the kiss his lover demanded of him.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s End Note:** I threw in the L-word!! O.o

So I tried to do fluffy-angst? Or angst leading to fluff? I don’t know what this is. Definitely not romance, or I need to change my bulb.

And I apologise for the horrible excuses Aomine came up with. I…I think of them as a perfect couple, and I honestly cannot find fault with either purposely. OTL. Forgive this foolish author.


	99. Abjuring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Daiki was done dancing to other people’s tunes…is what he would like to think, but finds himself unable to really do so. His pride as a man is on the line!**

**Author's Note:** So this prompt came in a month ago (or thereabouts), and during which I did 'Resolve' while figuring how to commence with this prompt. I was too excited writing most of it, for reasons unknown, and then got stumped. Then real life hit me with a sledgehammer. And made me incompetently headless. Sorry for being away so long! I will try and get back to the momentum of things. :D

* * *

 

 

Aomine Daiki hoped his infuriatingly loud heartbeat could not be heard as he tucked his body carefully behind the horrendously filthy alleyway dumpster, holding his panting breath with a hand fisting tightly against his sleeveless hoodie.

If there was a day he needed a reality check, it happened to be today, and he was way over his head with it.

Seriously, why did he have such horrible friends?!

A shaking hand pulled free of his phone, flipping it open, and praying that the small illumination of the screen did not catch the attention of anyone snooping around the alley, especially the ones looking out for him. The screen appeared blurry, not because of the spider web of cracks blooming to the left of it, but because of the fat liquid drops pattering on the surface.

“Ara?” He mumbled to himself, the other hand releasing his hoodie to hesitantly touch his cheeks. He hissed; it was wet but also smarting, and if he was not mistaken, he probably had a shiner to rival that raccoon-faced anime character he knows he has seen on television.

Jerkily he rubs his arm across his face, gingerly, wiping off the mixture of tears, snot and spittle that if anyone who knew him would forever remember it. Daiki always thought of himself as a big guy, able to defend himself if the need arose, but sometimes…even his ego got him in more trouble than he ever thought would happen.

* * *

_Twenty minutes ago…_

It was not as though he did it purposely, finding trouble that is, but Daiki’s attraction to that aspect was so large, he was always bumping into the frivolous, wannabe hooligans that his prime hangout spot had to offer. Daiki only felt safe in these areas (without picking fights that is) was because he was rarely out of his element and not paying attention to his surroundings.

The day, however, had opened up to be the one wherein he gets into a tiff with Satsuki for her horrible fashion sense.

“I can’t believe you came out of the house like that,” is something he repeats when people keep turning to look at her.

Pouting angrily, Satsuki warns him, “Dai-chan, one more comment on my attire and I will leave you!”

He snorts, which pushes more buttons than she was capable of withstanding at the moment, and he was unprepared for the smack of her purse into the left side of his face. Daiki cried out in surprise, a hand to his face.

“What the hell, Satsuki?!” He griped.

“Get lost, Dai-chan!” And swivelling on her (very pretty heels), Satsuki marched away, ignoring his calls for her to stop, and soon, Satsuki disappears.

“Whatever,” He shrugs it off, digging his hands into his pockets and heading away from all the cafes lined neatly in rows perpendicular to the street, and walked towards the street shops yonder. Hardly a few meters away from the crowded café section, and he can see a group of useless teenagers guffawing amongst themselves, enjoying their time as though there was nothing bothering them at all.

Seeing them annoyed him, and the frown on his face unintentionally deepened as he neared them enough. One of them facing his direction caught his stare, and gave a menacing growl-and-glare combination to which Daiki unthinkingly scoffed, turning his sight to something more pleasing than a wannabe gangster. His unthinking, however, was the wrong start to passing aimlessly unbothered on his new stroll.

“Oi,” he did not turn at the call, his back now towards them. It was, after all, not his name. “Oi, teme,” the voice rose in threat but unconcerned him.

Shuffling, however, made him curl his fingers into light fists, on the ready, and as the seconds added on, his mood souring before the hoodlums even reached him, Aomine Daiki was ready for a fight.

“The fuck do you sissies want with me?” He mumbled, annoyed, halting with his feet shoulder width apart. Glancing over his shoulder (Imayoshi-san had once mentioned how scary he was like that), he narrowed his eyes, “I don’t have time to play with you.”

“What the hell, teme?!” One of the two skinheads in the group came forward, shiny chains hanging around his neck, a bandana tied around his wrist, the same wrist coming to grab Daiki around his collar. Quickly, he leaned away, and with the momentum, Skinhead number 1, stumbled forward.

“What do you mean by that?! Hah?!” This wannabe was bigger than the others, and unlike the first attacker, made sure that Daiki did not have much chance to move away before the dark-skinned youth was dragged forward to his body. Skinhead number 2 reached out to slap Aomine, and glaring back at the idiot, amused himself with watching the fool jerk back in fright.

The one who seemed to be the leader of the group, an almost skinhead (more like a failed buzz cut) grinned at the large male holding Daiki put for him. Daiki was just warming up his anger, assessing his route to escape, of course after he thoroughly thrashed the ego of the Failed Buzz.

“So, ya think ya so tough, huh?”

Daiki would not have bothered answering any other day—he knew better, what he could get away with and where no one would look at his wrong doing and blame him for it—but today, after the shit he had gone through, today made his decision different.

Simultaneously, he kneed the large male holding onto his collar, and while he was shocked, kicked him to the side. “Don’t fucking get into my face, you ugly bastard!” Daiki snapped at Failed Buzz that was bent at the waist with his hands buried deep in his pockets, leaning further into Daiki’s line of sight deplorably. When the teenager did not, he grabbed the front of his face with his large-width hand and pushed it away, fingers twitching.

Unfortunately, that was when trouble really started: the loser tripped on his own feet and embarrassed, pointed at Daiki.

“Fucking bastard! You’ll die for this!” Livid, looking over his shoulder, Failed Buzz roared, “Get the fucking pussy!”

Daiki, in that short span of time, begged to differ, but looking at the sudden multiplying hoodlums before him, his brain that had been shut off all common sense, kicked into over-drive.

It’s first reaction?

Flight.

* * *

 

_Twenty minutes later—present time:_

Daiki sent the text to mass receivers, hoping someone(s) would happen to be around, but so far, his luck was dwindling to zero about now.

Frankly though, Daiki never had any luck on his side. While Fate was a happy camper, Luck seemed to like taking tea breaks when he needed it the most.

Well screw Luck—he will depend on Fate for now. At least Fate never let him down.

Speaking of Fate… Daiki received a message from an unknown number:  <<Where are you now?>>

Critically glaring at the device, he tried the slim chance he had with Luck sipping tea on his shoulder. A few seconds later: << Fucker. I’m there and you aren’t!!>>

<<Who the fuck is this?!>>

<<Your Knight in Shining armour, princess, now fork up your location.>>

Growling but considering that those fools after him would not really know his contact details—hopefully they did not know who he was—he hesitantly looked over his shoulder and tried to tell where he had randomly run to safety.

A few seconds after doing so, he staggered back down, emotionally exhausted of the evening’s activities. If Fate really was on his side, his _Knight in Shining armour_ better not be—

“Yo, Aomine-hime.”

Daiki’s blood pumped vigorously in his veins, firing him up. Snapping his head back to the entrance of the alleyway, illuminated by the neon lights he usually tried to stay far away from, stood a very familiar figure.

“Ka-Kagami…”

“Aa,” came the smug reply, and moving forward, Daiki could see the male more clearly now.

Kagami Taiga was dressed similarly to how he had been the first time they met, jeans and a simple t-shirt, only this time, a warm jacket was draped over his frame and the fur trim around the hoodie looked like a Tiger’s mane around the throat, white and thick, and the way Kagami was standing with the backlight, he was too proud.

Instantly, like a cat, Daiki’s hackles were raised.

“Why you—”

An eyebrow was raised unconcerned, surprised. “Were you crying?” Taking a step back when Kagami moved one step closer to him, the redhead continued, “Shit that looks bad.”

Words denying the pity-spell he knows Kagami would come up with, died on his tongue when the light from the only entrance to the alley was blocked. Darting his eyes, Daiki dismissed the fact that Luck was never on his side: it looked as though his luck was just bad, and out of all the alleys they could have stumbled upon, it had to be the one he was hiding in.

“Just in case,” Daiki started as Kagami gazed over his shoulder to look at the hoodlums gathering, “you are helping, right?”

“It depends,” Kagami shrugged.

Gaping, Daiki snapped his neck to look at the redhead. “What does that mean?! You came to help, didn’t you?!”

“Are you asking for help or are you demanding I help?” Daiki could not believe the idiot’s flagrancy.

“Why are you being the worst asshole I have the misfortune of bumping into today?!” Chagrined, he honestly wanted to know.

The way in which Kagami glanced behind him with no inflection whatsoever, just made Daiki see red. The adrenaline pumping in his veins was giving him the sudden power to own those useless hoodlums’ asses and some, and maybe while he was on his rampage, he would smack down the foolish redhead.

“I’m just surprised, is all,” the other was continuing to talk, as though the rushing dozen (they looked that many at least) behind him looked like herded sheep, “That you’re seriously asking me for help.” Kagami shrugged, and for a brief second, Daiki paused; “You look like you can take care of yourself.”

A small smile inched onto Kagami’s face which had no right to be present at this unfortunate moment, but then again, there were a lot of things Daiki could say about the situation that should not have been and there was really no time to be idly standing around when in a few seconds, Kagami and Daiki could possibly be roommates in a hospital ward.

The joy.

“Are you going to help or not?”

Kagami looked at him funny. “Are you an idiot? If we fight them, we’ll seriously die.”

“Then why are we still loitering around for?!” Daiki wondered why only idiots came to his defence.

“I was thinking of something else, actually,” and saying so, Kagami stood in front of the charging mob, filled his lungs until bursting point, before he let out, “Police! Help! Police!!”

Daiki did a double take.

“ ** _That’s_** you plan?!”

Kagami ignored him, still hollering for the police. The mob, however, slowed down in some confusion, looking around as though said law enforcement might crop out from the brick walls or from the tiny, grimy cracks in the sidewalk. Daiki would have laughed if he did not fear for his life.

As the mob came to a complete stop, so did Kagami’s mindless screaming for attention. Daiki glanced about, wondering if anyone did hear the redhead, almost itching to take off in a sprint to the nearest _kōban_. That was, if Kagami’s resulting manic grin did not make him freeze in his shoes.

“W-what…are you thinking now?” Daiki was almost afraid to voice his question; as far as he has known, Kagami Taiga was such an unpredictable teenager, that Daiki’s heart was refusing to be stopped because of another upset.

It did not, after a second, take a genius to figure out what Kagami’s plan of action was: throwing down his jacket and satchel, pulling up his sleeves and then widening his strides as he went forward _towards_ the mob, all Daiki could do was stare.

“…The idiot.”

With itching palms, Daiki curled his fingers into tight fists, took a deep breath, and plunged into the fray that was taking place.

He was so going to regret meeting Kagami at the end of this.

 

* * *

 

“You…were…the worse choice given to me today…” Daiki mumbled into his chest, heaving.

Kagami’s voice was further away, but could still be heard. “Not like I was having such a gala time. Today sucked ass.”

“Yea?” Daiki’s dark blue eyes peeked out through one swollen eyelid and trails of sweat.

It took a few moments, but without prodding, the other teenager spoke, “I was at the market today, and after nearly getting killed by the old women for bargains, at the counter I found out that I left my wallet at home. I guess me helping you was a godsend for releasing stress.”

Bloody, battered and bruised surrounded by bodies that Daiki hoped were down for the count for good, he heaved himself onto his knees, then braced himself against the walls that moments ago, he would have killed himself for touching. Kagami, a few feet away, was not any better, staggering to remain on his two feet proudly like a beast who defended its turf. A giggle that Daiki did not know where it came from almost bubbled out of his throat, so he gulped down hard, sliding back to the floor with a thump.

And found himself hiccupping.

“Seriously?” Kagami was the one who voiced the thought in Daiki’s head.

He scowled back.

“Shut up.”

Kagami managed to make his way closer, grabbing Daiki by the arm and lifting him up easily than expected, to the point where the one pull made Daiki drape himself completely over the redhead’s shoulders. Grasping in surprise, it took a second before he saw a beaming smile take over Kagami’s face. Tempted to ask—he might as well dig his grave in this nameless alleyway—Daiki grumbled out a whiny displeased, “What?”

Shouldering more of Daiki’s weight than the other thought possible, Kagami grinned out an easy, “Well, this Knight in shining armour didn’t expect to be thanked in such a way, Aomine-hime.”

Daiki geared back, trying to draw away from the tightening grasp around his waist. Kagami merely stumbled to keep his hold onto Daiki, and the grin was becoming more and more uneasy to face. Daiki jerked his chin to the side at the same time Kagami started a deep belly laugh. The strip of skin exposed to Kagami’s heated breath tingled, and without consent, his body shivered.

“Let’s get this princess home,” Kagami was saying, “then maybe I will get my rewards from the King.”

“The fuck are you saying?” Daiki spat, still struggling to get a proper grip on Kagami to stop himself from being lugged around.

“Just hold on a second, Kagami-kun, that pose is too priceless to let go of,” the bodiless voice said.

Daiki froze.

And all Kagami did was huff. “You’re a bastard, Kuroko. You left me to do all the heavy work and now you show your face?”

On trying to find said Kuroko, Daiki grazed Kagami’s face with his own, and in his rush did not even realise why Kagami stiffened unnaturally just as a blinding flash of light illuminated the alley. “Tetsu, you bastard, don’t you dare—!”

The blinding flash struck again.

“Ah, this one’s good,” Kuroko was saying. “Kagami-kun, I think you should be fine with the reward you got just now.”

“What reward?!” Daiki cried out, loud and gruff, and very manly despite his position.

Kuroko turned his phone so that the two could see the blurred image of Kagami holding Daiki tightly to his chest. It would have been an awkward enough picture if it were not for the obviously there (even though blurred) seemingly brush of lips.

“…You…”

Kuroko turned the picture back to himself. “Hmm, people would assume you two were mirthfully reuniting with a run-and-hug scenario, you know?” And then, as though another thought caught his attention, he halted. “Ah.”

That was not a pleasant ‘ah’. “What?”

The sounds of many phones going at once echoed in the alley.

“I sent it to the group message you started.”

Kagami’s arms around him slackened before tightening up, causing Daiki’s eyes to turn livid.

“Tetsuuuuuuuu!! You’re fucking dead!!”

“Kagami-kun, it looks like you have things settled, so I’m going ahead.”

“What? Don’t—”

Kagami never managed to finish his sentence after finding a fist shoved into his mouth. “What. Were you. Going. To say?”

Slobbering around a mouthful of Daiki, Kagami closed his eyes. “Nashing.”

“Good boy.”

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s End Notes:** Oh gosh, this was terrible. Two-thirds of this I was writing when my life’s shit hit the fan, and I only managed to complete it today (when I was dedicating my time to finishing a stupidly simple assignment that I have been putting off. Oh well). Besides that, I hope whoever requested it, did not _completely_ forget that you sent this in.

Likewise, the story…wasn’t up to par. Again, I’m sorry! I’ll get back into the swing of things. Soon.

OTL.


	100. Those Drinks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **One would say that Aida Riko really only knew how to mix a sports drink for safe consumption, that too, under watchful eyes. It was high time they stop inviting her to their drinking parties.**

**Warning(s):** Mentions of sexual vulgarity. Otherwise, harmless. (I think.)

* * *

 

 

“I,” they heard the solemn start of a statement they had each played a part in, “woke up with someone I did not expect in my bed.”

“Oh?” The curiousness was only slightly apparent in the disregarded airy tone.

“Yes,” was the grave reply, knotted fingers tightening. “I did.”

A look. “Did you stick around to talk or did you run away?”

A scandalised, gaping look. “The fuck? Ran away of course!!”

“Oh.”

It would have ended with that, usually, and they would have gone through the day with a splendid unhungover mood, but the clouded regret of not really knowing the true story would hamper daily activities until the next drinking party was organised.

And the cycle would repeat.

“I,” they found him saying the second time, “woke up with two people I did not expect in my bed.”

“Oh?” There was a little more curiousness this time—it was rare, after all, for threesome frights—and so they paused in clearing up the mess they made in their drunken return to the house.

“Yes,” knotted fingers held up a bowed head, “I did.”

A shared look. “Did you stick around this time?”

A gasp. “Hell no!”

It took a second for the response to come. “Oh.”

This time the regret was twofold and the drinking party was impromptu. It so happened that the odd time for the get-together just coincidentally let more people than normal show up, and the merrymaking was louder and grander. One would say that the clean up the next day would be easier if they did not make a larger mess. Either way, they would deal with it when they were dealing with it.

“I,” this time, they were not even close to waking up before the conversation started in a near whisper, “woke up with people I never want to see in my life again.”

This time, too, it took longer for them to muster up the energy to provide a two way conversation. A few tried to remember if they had ever been part of an orgy too. “Oh?” someone else asked; looks like that one did.

“Yes,” there were tears mingling with the huffs of air, and they could almost feel the other’s pain, “I did.” With a voice small and squeezed, words they were not expecting came out in a shrill: “There was…so much…hair!”

Unlike the previous times, though, someone managed to rustle up a bottle and plunk it down on the nearest even, clean surface. “Drink up; you’ll need the hangover if you want to forget.”

The gratefulness of the breathed word was forever imprinted in their heads on the long list of gratitude: “God bless your existence!”

Well, they too wondered if they should spill the beans soon.

Watching the liquid disappear in fluid gulps, they blinked back into sleep; _maybe next time_ , they thought in unison.

However, when the next time did come about, it was a little scarier because they were all furiously squirming away and pretending they were far from the person bawling their internal organs out.

“I!” was cried, the sound soaring heartfelt, “I can’t believe myself!”

“Is that so…?” The unease should have been tangible, but was sadly ignored by the crying adult.

“I am such a horrible person! Instead of!” Hiccupping broke the complaint and self-mauling, peace settling in sporadic bursts in between wails, “Instead of stopping this deplorable behaviour! I have made it worse!”

“There, there,” after all, they were partly to blame. With sly looks, their clothes are being mapped out and while eyes are blurry with tears, reflexes honed by years of basketball are used to grab and jimmy into them quickly before they were noticed; it would not do to make it worse.

“I’ll never drink again!”

Cringing, they wondered how to put into words what everyone in Seirin already knew from experience, and what others had learned after their first encounter of drunken hook-ups. One would say that Aida Riko really only knew how to mix a sports drink for safe consumption, that too, under watchful eyes. So they should have guessed it was high time they stop inviting her to their drinking parties.

“I don’t want to wake up like this ever again!”

“There, there,” someone nearby had the gall to say.

“Yes, Aomine-kun,” the voice that was suspiciously further away than usual was affirming, “Don’t blame the alcohol for your baser instincts.”

“…What?”

They felt so bad hearing the inflicted, pained voice from such an arrogant fuck.

“Poor Kagami-kun,” that little imp was burying him, was he not, they figured, shuffling further away before it was noticed, “At least he owns up to his raucous behaviours when he drinks.”

“Eh?”

A nod and the—very suspicious, fully-clothed—look. “Just the other day he sent me a snapchat that showed more of your body than I would rather want to see if I was a starved animal, surrounded by—”

The man did not get to finish that statement.

“Don’t say anything any more!!”

They wonder when would be the right time to tell the other members of their drinking parties that had still not caught up to the drinks Aida Riko made; they did not give you a hangover, but it sure gave you a reason not to sit next to her during these parties if you especially did not want to find yourself in your birthday suit with a former enemy or rival in their own birthday suit, doing things you would only dream up in nightmares involving decapitation. Or at least, what felt like they would rather be decapitated for. Each one already had a reason to not sit by Okamura Kenichi, or Murasakibara Atsushi, if they wanted to spend the next few weeks on a donut ring cushion.

Not that Aida had any qualms about stopping her concoctions any time soon. Even taking Kinesiology in University, aiming to be the best at understanding the needs of a body, she was _too insightful_ with someone of her culinary skill level.

 

* * *

**Bonus:**

Taiga watched Aomine rowdily continue chugging the drink placed in grabbing distance, wondering if he should open his mouth. Not one to really care enough to talk about what was happening—and the other always seemed unconcerned about what happened after for him to bring anything up now—Taiga continues to sip at his drink, vigilantly watching where Aida Riko traversed around that side of the room.

He was not falling for that a second time.

So he was quite surprised when he overheard someone confess their concerns.

“When do you think we should tell Aomine about why he’s feeling worse every time he comes to our drinking parties?”

“Aa, I feel bad for him, but at least she’s not focusing her attention on anyone else, you know?”

Taiga choked on his drink.

Covering his face, he sighed heavily. Then, as though knowing he was going to be digging his grave, he placed his drink down, pulled out his wallet and removed a few bills. Hopefully it would be more than enough to cover his share, with the night not even starting.

“Oi, Aomine,” he called out to him as he stood, walking over and pulling the other man’s elbow. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

“Eh? Kagami?” Came the slurred attention of one tipsy Aomine Daiki. “What’s going on? I’m having fun!”

“Yea, yea,” he says, scouring the place to find Aomine’s jacket and other belongings, jostling the both of them as he continues speaking, “You’ll thank me for this later, you lush.”

“’Am nuh lush.”

“Says the lush. C’mon,”

“Kagami-kun?” Aida looked over at him, blinking large doe eyes. “Leaving already?”

“Senpai,” he nodded, then dropping his voice, he added, “You should stop torturing him…ma’am.”

Aida laughed. “What are you talking about?” She looked away.

Taiga sighed. “Yea. That.” Hefting Aomine carefully closer as he brandished an arm wide at his side, hollering his goodbyes and farewells—Taiga tried not to see the weird motions the other male was insisting on doing before his departure—and tugged him to the exit. “Thanks for the meal!”

Outside, Aomine lumbered closer to Taiga unnecessarily. “So…” Taiga glanced at him as they walked further towards the main road in order to hail a taxi. “Your place or mine?”

Taiga face-palmed.

Aomine just never learned.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s End Notes:**

So, what I was describing was a **_konpa_** which is what most university students call their “drinking get-together parties”. A friend of mine recently went to one and she was telling me how the senpai of her club were so good at blaming the alcohol if they got together with the girls in the club who wanted to get into relationships with them. This is me, twisting things as usual XD

[However, there apparently are drinking parties in which you end up shacking up with a partner for sex. They’re called **_yarikon_** —if I’m not mistaken, this comes from “yaru” meaning to have sex. Scary things.]

* * *

 

And FINALLY! It has come to an end!

A big round of thanks to all those who commented, reviewed and gave this Big Baby kudos for existing! Know that it really fired me up in creating each and every piece! :)

Hope to see you guys in the next set :D


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